


Yesterday Was Hard On All Of Us

by GoThruTheStars



Series: Even In The Darkness, Carry Your Torches [1]
Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: (or does it), Abuse, Angst, Dannys dad is in this, Depressing Thoughts, Depression, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mental Instability, Panic Attacks, Pining, Please read the tags closely guys i dont want to trigger anyone, Suicidal Thoughts, The Gronk(tm) is here as well, Tom is tom just minus the avocados, Violence, does not follow season closely, idiot boys in love, im mean to poor dola, it ends happy i swear, lots and lots, other teammates mentioned in passing, self-deprication, this is AU and in the sense that it NEVER ACTUALLY HAPPENED THIS IS FICTION, trigger warning, un-beta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14966834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoThruTheStars/pseuds/GoThruTheStars
Summary: "Danny does not like the Patriots. He’ll never tell them that, because then he’d have to have a reason why.Scratch that. He does have a reason. But he doesn’t think “You make me feel like I’m worth something and that’s dangerous” is going to get him very far."He's trying, is the thing. But when you don't know what you're trying for, it gets very hard to keep going.





	1. It Was A Sin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alliemackenzie28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliemackenzie28/gifts).



> This story is a work of fiction. In this story, there are some very heavy themes, ranging from depression to physical abuse. Please read the tags, If you think any of this could be triggering to you, please, do not read, I don’t want to hurt anyone.
> 
> Also, for plot purposes, Danny meets Jules when he signs with the patriots, not before.

_Where do we go from here_

 

_And is it real or just something we think we know_

 

_Where are we going now_

 

_Where do we go_

 

_Cuz if it’s the same as yesterday you know I’m out, just so you know_

 

_Because, because_

 

_Our paths they crossed_

 

_Yesterday was hard on all of us_

 

_On all of us_

 

\---------------------

 

Danny grew up with a father who hated him, and a mother who was a ghost. But it was all okay, because they had money, and his parents were still together. He got good grades, he played ball. He smiled when he was asked, laughed when it was expected. He put on a show like he was told to.

 

He didn’t have a reason to be sad. He didn’t have a reason to angry, or to be hurt. There were so many other people, so many other kids who had it worse than him. He’d rather his dad hit him a few times, and have his mother skip on a few games, than go hungry or worry about being homeless.

 

His dad liked him better when he started playing football. He only tried out because the gym coach saw him toss a few balls and told him he was good. Once his dad found out he made the team, the sharp punches stopped, the bruises on his chest and stomach became less, and the ones on his arms and legs became much, much easier to explain.

 

He catches a pass that wins his high school the state championship, and his mom had smiled at him while his Dad only gave him a smack on the head.

 

Danny decided he likes football.

 

\-------

 

College shows him something else. Shows him...people. Friends. Shows him smiles that aren’t fake, shows him people who aren’t broken. It brings out a new sense of determination to find something better than his family, to be something better than his father.

 

To be _something._

 

It’s determination, and its focus, and it’s a newly lit fire that pushes him to be even better at the game.

 

It pays off.

 

He gets signed.

 

\--------

 

The Rams teach him that some things don’t change.

 

He had gotten comfortable - too comfortable - with the lack of punishment, with the lack of paying for failure. He had grown confident, he had grown to be okay with himself.

 

Then the Rams lost. Because he missed a catch.

 

He was angry with himself, but also with the others - with the whispers, the glares, the pointed silences. He had been confident, he had grown a sense of pride, a sense of self. He was someone, and a parentless college had made him believe in the illusion that he deserved to be treated like a human.

 

Then he snapped back at one of the other players, and got back handed across the locker room.

 

For the rest of his seasons with them, every loss, every _mistake,_ he learned. A new bruise, a new insult, a new injury. Nothing new about it, just different things to hold, to hide again, to make excuses for. More fake smiles to hide a broken soul.

 

He was nothing. He didn’t understand why he ever let himself think otherwise. Why he let himself believe his old teammates lies, that he was good, that he could do something, he’d never know. He was nothing.

 

Just a boy with some sticky hands. Too short, to slow, to small, to do anything but stand in the right spot and pray he didn’t fuck it up.

 

He learns a lot with the Rams. Mostly, he learns his place.

 

\----

 

His place is not on the Patriots. At least, that’s what he tells himself when he hears he’s been traded. His place is not there. It’s not anywhere, least of all in the NFL, playing the sport he loves. He doesn’t deserve that. One thing his father always told him, was that he didn’t _deserve_ anything. You’re not entitled to anything. Just because you exist, doesn’t mean the world owes you something.

 

Danny didn’t deserve them. He didn’t deserve to be good at this game that was his life, he shouldn’t get that, shouldn’t get to go to New England, shouldn’t be welcomed like they actually want him there.

 

He doesn’t deserve to wear the Silver and Blue, but he does anyway.

 

\-------------------

 

On his first day he meets a man with blue eyes and a perfect smile.

 

“Hey man, you’re the new receiver right? Danny something?”

 

His smile was fake at first - he knows a fake smile when he sees one, and looking at this guy felt like looking in a mirror. The media is near, a small crowd who are snapping pictures and asking for interviews. Danny smiles back in the same way, feeling the familiar forced fake happiness stretch across his face.

 

“Amendola.” He responds, hating the last name, hating what it means. The other receiver gives Danny a light punch in the shoulder and walks with him through the doorway.

 

Then they’re in the locker room at Gillette, aways from the cameras and the microphones, and Julian Edelman is grinning at him, smiling in a real way that makes Danny feel like he’s something special to be seeing at it.

 

They’ve just meet, and Danny can’t understand the weightlessness the other man makes him feel, can’t understand the tiny seed of light Jules planted in the darkness inside him.

 

“ _Amendola_.” Julian repeats, rolling the name around in his mouth, and Danny suddenly loves the sound of his last name, loves the way Edelman says it like it doesn't carry his past, like it doesn’t define him in the way he knows it to. “Oh we’re gonna have fun with that one.”

 

Danny feels the lightness grow a tiny bit more with that grin, and then it all fades when he leaves to talk to his friends.

 

But the seed is still there, still planted in the dark emptiness of his soul, and he knows if he stays, if he lets him, Julian will make it grow.

 

He’s screwed.

 

\----------

 

Danny does not like the Patriots. He’ll never tell them that, because then he’d have to have a reason why.

 

Scratch that. He does have a reason. But he doesn’t think “ _You make me feel like I’m worth something and that’s dangerous”_ is going to get him very far.

 

They do, and it is. Because being on the Rams made him feel like he was worth something, and the only thing worse than knowing you’re nothing, is knowing that when you thought you were something.

 

At first, it’s easy to tell himself he’s just here to play the game. He’s just in New England for the chance to put his hands on a football.

 

But the team. Oh man the team. They refuse to let him be.

 

Danny assumes at first they’re just being nice. Maybe they’re just nice people. Nice people have their limit though, so after the fifth time of Danny politely saying ‘ _no thanks guys, I’ll catch you later’,_ he assumes there will be no more asking.

 

Fucking shit is he wrong.

 

It _never_ stops, and while the guys all take turns asking him, he always says no. It gets harder every time, because he wants to, he wants to go and have a beer with them, he wants to go over Jules to battle him in ping pong, he wants to go hang with the Gronk and Hogan.

 

But if he does that, if he lets himself feel like that again (happy, valued, _wanted-_ ) then it’s over.

 

The Rams started like that too. He learned from them though. He won’t get hurt again.

 

But Jules keeps pushing, keeps talking to him despite how closed off Danny is, despite how uninteresting he is. Julian is loud and funny and bright, and Danny is...Danny is silent and boring and dark.

 

Danny is nothing. Jules is everything.

 

Jules should try for better than Danny. He tries telling him that, interrupts a nice conversation to  say it with awkward silences and wrong words.

 

He tries to tell him to stop pretending.

 

“Look Julian...I don’t know what you think you need to be doing with me or whatever, but you don’t have to keep hanging out with me. I know the ropes now I-”

 

“Woah what? Dola what are you talking about?” Because, of course he’s gotta be surprised. The nice guy act needs to be in full force all the way through this, otherwise it’s not Danny who’s the bad guy, its Julian.

 

“I’m just saying, I don’t need you to be here.” It comes out harsher than he intended, but doesn't Jules _get it,_ Danny will be gone by next year (if he’s lucky to even get a full season), and it won’t do either of them good to get attached (it won’t help Danny to let that seed of light grow, let it become something, just to let it wither and die when he leaves).

 

“Do you- what, you think I’m _faking_ being your friend?”

 

“We’ve known each other for three weeks man we aren’t really best buds-”

 

“No, but I thought - I mean, we’ve all been trying to get you to open up man, to _smile,_ jesus christ you’re a professional football player you _should be_ happy-”

 

“I _should be_ a lot of things.” Danny snarls, heart hurting, feeling each word Jules says was a punch from his father. He spent most of his life telling himself he should be happy. He can’t hear it from Jules too. “I played with the Rams remember?? I know how this goes.”

 

And that maybe gets to Jules. Because his offronted tone changes to confused, and Danny thinks he finally gets it.

 

Until-

 

“Is that- is that what happened to you over there? Because Danny, I- _we_ aren’t like that. I’ve been hanging around with you because you’re a cool guy and I want to get to know you. If you don’t want to know me that’s fine, but I just thought...I mean I got on the team at a chance. I know what it’s like to be here and have no one to talk to. I just wanted to help.”

 

And yeah, Danny is screwed. He’s so utterly screwed its _fucking_ hilarious, because he’s _never_ had someone to talk to, and here’s this guy, this Cali man with a southern accent that he’ll fall in love with if he’s not careful.

 

He should tell him no. He should tell him to get away from him, to run away and never look back, to go ham it up with Tom and ignore him.

 

Danny apologizes. Then ignores Jules for the rest of camp.

 

Because they’ve known each other for three weeks, yes. And while that may not be a long time for most, for Danny, it’s been twenty one days of smiling during the day and staring in the mirror at night, telling himself horrible things to get rid of that nice feeling in his chest, telling himself to stop being happy, telling himself to stop feeling. Stop pretending he deserves something.

 

Stop pretending you deserve Julian offering to room with you in Foxborough, stop pretending you deserve Rob throwing grapes at you in the cafeteria like a four year old, stop pretending you deserve to be in the same room as Tom Brady.

 

Stop pretending.

 

_Please, please stop._

 

_Just make it stop._


	2. Hey, No Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...because allie is pushy and said she wants this. Author is weak.
> 
> Thanks for everyone that left kudos and comments!

Danny Amendola was not always the quiet kid. He had friends, he had people. He remembers being bright, he remembers the few years where he let himself just exist, where he smiled when he thought something was funny, where he had a team, where he made friends. 

 

He remembers. He remembers how much harder it was to lie to them, how much harder it was to listen to their concerned words, those  _ “where did you get those bruises Danny _ ” that made him hate himself. He remembers cutting ties and fading into the background when it got to much.

 

He remembers.

 

Rob Gronkowski is the epitome of the term ‘goofball’. Literally, a raging ball of pure goof.

 

He gets to Danny first. 

 

It’s in pre-season practice, and Danny had been too open. He’d stopped ignoring Jules, and the wide receiver was much too innocent, because he jumped at the chance to talk to Danny again. 

 

It was so stupid. He’d just hurt him again. But that little seed of light grew everytime Danny saw the other man, so it made no sense to try ignore him all season.

 

Still. It was Gronk and his crazy excitement and his naturally happy face that reminded Danny of a Golden Retriever, that got to him first. It was Rob and his energy, that meet Danny and his exhaustion, and won.

 

Danny agreed to go out to a bar with him. He promptly woke up five hours later with Hogan holding his head over a toilet bowl while he puked.

 

Yeah, ‘cause when word got out that Rob “yo soy fiesta” Gronkowski managed to get the new guy to have a  _ tiny  _ bit of fun, half the team decided to go with him and properly  _ initiate  _ said new guy.

 

“I am  _ never _ drinking with you again.” He rasps in between rounds of dry heaves.

 

The  little bastard laughs.

 

\----

 

Week one. Game one. 

 

Moment of truth.

 

The playful banter was gone. The jokes were gone. The locker room was tense, and full of a nervous energy that mixed with tangible excitement. This was what they loved to do, and it was finally time to get back out there and prove they were worthy.

 

The rest of the team was in game mode, and he knew it was over. The grace period was over. This was it now. No time to fuck it up.

 

\---

 

He fucked it up.

 

He fucked it up  _ so, so bad _ .

 

How the hell does he play his first game and get injured. And it’s literally his groin too, so he can’t even  _ walk _ without wondering if there’s a knife or something stuck up there.

 

Julian calls him a few dozen times after the game (Danny sorta got checked out by the med team, planned a time for physical therapy and possible MRI, then disappeared to a hotel room and didn’t talk to anyone at all), but he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t touch his phone for a while, instead leaving it plugged in across the room while he just lays on his bed with an ice pack on his crotch and his eyes closed while he does his best to breath evenly.

 

The rational part of him whispers that he won’t get traded because of this. The Patriots made an investment in him because they saw what he could do and they wanted it. 

 

They won’t trade him. They won’t.

 

They  _ won’t _ .

 

(The less rational part of him is snarking about his head, telling him to pack his bags, because they’ll get rid of him in heartbeat).

 

He answers his phone when the ice has melted to a be a ziplock full of water, and that’s only because it’s Tom who’s calling. There’s about a billion messages on his phone from Jules, a bunch from Gronk, and only a few from Brady, which he only just glimpses at before the quarterback actually calls him.

 

He’s pretty sure they’re somewhere along the lines of ‘ _ pick up the phone before I call in a fucking SWAT team to make sure you’re not dead’. _

 

“Yeah.” He rasps, and its only in that moment does he realize how bad this must all look - getting walked off the field as questionable to return, no one knowing what happened, then just disappearing for what must have been several hours - with no one really able to tell anyone what happened. At the Rams, that would be something of curiosity, not concern. No one would be texting him except Sam, and he would only do it out of boredom. 

 

But he’s not on the Rams anymore. He’s in New England. And he’s learned that this team...this team is a  _ team _ . A family of sorts. They care about each other. 

 

And whether he’ll admit it out loud or not, the reason that irrational fear of being traded after one game has  _ any  _ merit, is because he  _ wants  _ to stay here.

 

That stupid, stupid little light in the darkness is only there because of this team. And now he likes them - likes Julian, likes Rob and Tom and Chris and - and now he has something to lose (if he hasn’t already lost it).

 

This...this horrible feeling in his chest that’s been there since he went to move and felt way to much pain to play? This feeling, is why he wasn’t supposed to feel.  _ This  _ is why he wasn’t supposed to let the walls down.

 

“ _ Jesus chri- _ are you  _ kidding  _ me Amendola?!”

 

Right, yeah, so Tom Brady is not one you should piss off….

 

“Um…” Danny manages, trying to think of what to say to his quarterback. Something that explains his existential crisis without  _ actually  _ explaining it. Tom, luckily or unluckily, runs him over before he can say anything.

 

“Where are you?!”  _ That  _ Danny can answer easily.

 

“Hotel room.”

 

“Are you okay?” Comes the next question, a little less harshly. “Because if you are, then I’d love to hear the  _ damn  _ good reason you have for not responding to anybody for the last five hours.”

 

“ _ Five hours?!” _ Danny sputters, pulling the phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Sure enough, it’s much later than he thought it was. He puts the phone back to his ear with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 

“Sorry.” He mutters. “I guess- I guess Jules is pretty freaked.” Because Tom might’ve waited till tomorrow to call him, but if Edelman (stupid, funny,  _ caring  _ Julian Edelman) got in his friends ear, then Tom was probably pretty worried too.

 

“Oh  _ gee _ , you  _ think _ ? He just about broke down my door asking if I’d seen you. Seriously man, we were worried.”

 

Danny swallows hard, and does his best not to let the word  _ ‘we’  _ settle to deep in his brain.

 

“Uh-” His voice shakes to hard, and his eyes burn, and he knows that Tom definitely heard the tremor over the phone. “So- so does this mean- I-I mean...am I...is coach going to-”

 

“Gonna what?  _ Trade  _ you? Are you serious Danny?”

 

“Yeah.” He whispers back, heart in his throat.

 

“No, you idiot. You got hurt on your first game, Belichick isn’t some impulsive old guy on a power trip. He watched you through camp, and he knows that one game isn’t going to determine what you can do.”

 

“Oh.” Danny says, breathing out fast and feeling the tightness in his chest loosen a little. He grabs the edge of the desk, feeling dizzy with relief. “ _ Oh.” _

 

“Dola you alright?” 

 

“Yeah.” He wheezes, then realizes he needs to inhale again. 

 

“What room are you?”

 

“Um…” He blearily grabs at the key card that's conveniently on the small desk that he’s been leaning on. “Six Twenty Four.”

 

“Don’t go anywhere.” Brady snaps, and Danny thinks he hears Jules yelling in the background before he ends the call. Half in a daze, the short receiver limps his way to the couch, and collapses onto it.

 

So he’s not getting kicked. That’s nice.

 

What’s not so nice?

 

Because he’s staying now, when they throw him away later, it’s going to hurt that much more.

 

\----------

 

So, if he thought that Tom was kidding about Jules almost breaking down his door, that notion is very quickly disproved when an hour later the wide receiver is banging a fist on his door hard enough to knock the door off its hinges.

 

“Okay just-  _ jesus  _ Jules, I can’t move fast you know!” He hisses, hobbling his way off the couch and across the room. The second the door is open the slightly shorter man is pushing his way into the apartment, running a hand through his hair like and pacing around like an insane person. 

 

The rushed movement makes him stumble out of the way, pain flaring up sharply enough that he might’ve gone to his knees if there wasn’t a pair of strong hands gripping his arms. The door is still open, Danny takes a moment just to watch Jules prowl around the room looking distinctly agitated.

 

“Does he always get like this?” He whispers to Gronk, who shrugs.

 

“Only when his close friends get hurt then don’t respond to anybody so he thinks they might be in a shit ton of trouble that could possibly include life threatening scenarios.” He responds, voice as cheery as ever. Danny flinches, and Gronk lets go of him when he finds a way of standing that hurts the least.

 

“Welp, I’m gonna go. You two have fun.” Rob quips, turning towards the door. Panic flits through Danny and he grabs the larger man's arm to halt him for a second.

 

“You’re just gonna leave me here with him?!” He hisses, and Rob’s nodding before he even finishes the sentence.

 

“Yep.” He says, popping the ‘p’. “Bye!” And then the tight end is gone, closing the door. He sighs, then glances at Jules.

 

“Uh, so Edelman-” His teammate whirls around, and  _ wow _ , that’s some frustrated anger right there. Danny just sighs again. “Alright, just let me get to the couch.”

 

\----

 

In the end, Jules only screams at him for a good hour before stopping and asking really softly if he’s okay.

 

Danny is so taken aback that he just stares blankly back at Julian until the other man gets that worried look on his face again and comes over to sit next to him on the couch.

 

“Look, I know getting injured is hard, but you’re not done, the game is still going to be waiting when you come back.”

 

“It’s not about the game.” Danny snorts, then immediately regrets the words. Mostly, because now he has to explain them, and also because they aren’t true. It  _ is  _ about the game, because yes, he loves the sport, loves what he does. There's a part of him that  _ hates  _ how he won’t get to play, but he can’t distinguish if that's because he’s losing something he loves, or because that means he’ll be alone for a while, stuck in his head, feeling lost.

 

“Then- then what the  _ fuck  _ Dola-”

 

“Why are you here man?!” Danny snaps, forcing anger to cover the hole in his chest.

 

He spent five hours being consumed with worry and now that he knows he’s staying his chest feels empty and his heart cold. His head is  _ tired  _ of being no good, and has been looking for something else to latch onto.

 

That meant that while Jules was lecturing him, all he could focus on was that he knew the guy for less than three months, and yet he was worried enough about him to get his two best friends involved. 

 

He focused on that, and on the way the thought made him feel. The way Jules yelling meant he  _ cared _ .

 

He can’t have that. It’s only going to hurt them both, and Danny can’t take anymore hurt.

 

Jules actually looks taken aback.

 

“What?”

 

“I mean- why do you care so much?” Danny spits, wishing he could shove Jules out the door convince him to never come back. Wishing he didn’t feel like never seeing Jules again would hurt more than existing. 

 

But Jules...Jules is not stupid. He’s fun like Rob sure, and serious like Brady, but he’s also sees the things between the lines, and he read Danny better than anyone ever has. 

 

It’s why instead of responding, he narrows his eyes and responds with, “Why do you think I  _ shouldn’t?” _

  
And doesn’t  _ that  _ throw a wrench in the plan.


	3. Mr. Sandman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Round three...allie left me alone lol. Life hit pause for like six seconds for me to get this out. Enjoy!

 

Things change after that. Not a lot for anyone else, but so much for Danny. He works on getting better, works on communicating a little more, but mostly, he works on what he has with Jules.

 

It’s not  _ really  _ a ton of time, but he’s recovered a lot faster than he thought he would. 

 

And it’s not  _ really  _ a ton of time, but  _ something’s  _ changed in him. That little seed of light is not longer little, and it’s been growing, battling the oppressing darkness. 

 

The conversation was nothing especially huge, but it was...something. Danny could barely get out a decent sentence, and he never even touched all the things wrong with him, but he admitted that he liked New England, and he didn’t want to leave, and Jules said that he liked having Danny in New England. 

 

It wasn’t much, but it cleared the air, and it made Danny want to get closer to Edelman, to  _ know  _ him, because if a person could make him want to be better just by existing, then maybe Danny ought to try for him.

 

He goes out and plays his absolute hardest when he comes back. He plays, and he gets told he’s killing it. He likes the idea, likes the way his teammates are looking at him with respect an appreciation, and continues to go out and do his best.

 

He’s back, and he loves it.

 

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

 

\------

 

They’re facing New Orleans, and he’s still riding high. It’s been a great game, and they’re tied when Tom throws him the ball. He catches it with ease and turns, sprinting down the field with the Saints defense converging on him. He knows he won’t make it that far, but he pushes his legs nonetheless, and the speed gets him a good thirty yards before a defender breaks away from whoever was keeping him occupied and lunges into his path.

 

He blinks awake still on the ground, arms bent awkwardly and one of the trainers from the sideline talking to him. He’s joined by others, and there’s a hand on his back as moves slowly, forcing himself to his hands and knees. His heads full of cotton, everythings too loud, and he can barely keep his eyes open, but he knows he has to get off the field. And he has to stand to do that.

 

Blinking hard, the ground is tilting and swaying beneath his hands, and he’s confused, staring at the grass, wondering if throwing up would be a bad idea right now.

 

One of the people around him asks him if he can stand, and yeah, he should be able to do that.

 

He puts a hand out the person to the right of him, trying not to use them to much for balance when he stands. Once on two feet, staying there seems a lot harder than it should be, and the way the whole stadium is tilting certainly doesn’t help him keep his balance. He might be leaning forward to much, as evident by the way he feels like he’s about to fall, and the hand he reaches out actually touches the guy directly in front of him, who doesn’t seem to mind all that much.

 

There’s hands on his back, pressing him forward gently, and he stumbles a bit at first, but eventually gets back into the rhythm of walking. The hands stay, keeping a tight grip on his jersey, and he can’t tell if he’s the one not walking in a straight line or if it’s everyone else who’s weaving.

 

Things are moving quickly around him, but his brain is so fuzzy he can’t seem to grasp any one thought. He knows people are saying things to him, and he knows he’s responding accordingly, but he doesn’t really know what any of those things are.

 

He comes back a little more when he gets the chance to lie down. No longer having to be standing - and most of his gear is off as well, he’s basically down too his tights and socks and undershirt - seems to let his mind calm down a little bit, and Danny can process things a little bit more.

 

He’s in the locker room, more specifically, the small room that’s next to the locker room. The med team is bustling around him, and the chatter is still much to loud for his ears to really process. He’s tired, and he doesn’t know how long it’s been since he was out on the field, but he really just wants to go home and sleep.

 

Someone flashes a really bright light straight in his eye, and he flinches away, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block out the light. It makes the pain in his head ratchet up a notch, and he moans. 

 

The noise echoes in his ears, and he tries to squirm away from the hands on him, but he can’t seem to get very far. Someone peels open his other eye, and the bright light is back, flicking across his vision and making him gasp as sharp daggers of pain drive through his skull.

 

“Danny, can you hear me?” A voice calls through the chaos. He thinks he hears the word  _ ‘ambulance’ _ somewhere in the conversation, and even as he’s carefully nodding to the first question, he’s working on deciphering the meaning of the other word.

 

Ambulance means he’s in pretty rough shape. Ambulance also means...means he’ll be taken away from here. From the game.

 

“Can you tell me where you are?” Danny blinks slowly, letting his eyes drift around until they land on the owner of the voice. She’s young for being on the med staff, a nice girl named Alex who takes no shit and always wears her hair in a high ponytail. He likes her, and the barely concealed worry on her face makes  _ him  _ feel worried, and he hopes that maybe talking will help her not worry. 

 

“Game.” He slurs out, then frowns, working his tongue around his mouth and marveling at the way it feels thick and heavy.

 

“Yes, but  _ where.” _ She asks again. He tries to think. Was it a home game? Are they in Foxborough right now? He lets his gaze float some more, scanning the med room in the hopes of distinguishing something familiar. He doesn’t get very far, because the second he loses focus on her shes tapping his cheek, telling him to focus. And looking more worried.

 

“Stadium.” He eventually gets out, unable to think past...well, he’s not really able to think at all.

 

Ambulance. Game. He’s hurt, but the team was playing a game, and the ambulance will take him away from the game, and therefor away from the team.

 

“We win?” Danny asks to no one in particular, struggling to stay with reality. He feels his gloves get shimmied off his hands, and he wonders if they’re actually going to give him an IV. No one answers his first question, and Alex is occupied with his arm, so he tries to move a little bit, twisting his arm to get her attention.

 

She flicks her eyes up to him, and he sees the glint of a needle in her hand. He sucks in a breath, tense, but she doesn’t stick him just yet. If anything, she seems relieved enough to move back up to his head, but not before handing the sharp metal to someone else. She smartly blocks his view, and the tiny sting feels not so bad compared to the horrible ache in his head.

 

“Are you with me ‘Dola?” She asks, and finds that while he can almost get her face to come into focus, he can’t hold it for long, and his brain is still much to like mush to string coherent thoughts together.

 

“No.” He answers honestly. “Where’s Jules?” Alex opens her mouth to say something, but her attention is pulled towards one other colleagues. Possibly the one who had lifted up his shirt. He didn’t know if it was normal for them to do that when he was pretty sure it was his head that was the main issue, but he knew that he probably should’ve stopped them the second he felt cold air on his abdomen. 

 

It was a testament to his awareness, that he didn’t even register what would happen until now.

 

“Alex, where’s Jules?” He asks, oblivious to the gloved hands that are pressing on his bruises, gently poking and feeling around his stomach and ribs. “Can I see him? I want- I want to talk to Jules.”

 

The dark haired girl doesn’t even look his way, still feeling around his abdomen. Her mouth moves though, and somebody leaves the table but he doesn’t know who or why. His hearing is kinda messed, or maybe the part of the brain that interprets it is, but either way he’s back to only seeing mouths move and interpreting weird elongated vowels that mix with a sharp ringing from time to time.

 

The pain is back (did it ever leave?) and he’s having a hard time staying awake when the noise around him get a little louder. He thinks he hears his last name called out, but his eyelids are starting to get very heavy, and he can’t be bothered to try and move his head again. There’s suddenly a new presence on his right side, and warm hand is gripping his freezing cold one.

 

“-ey, hey man I’m right here, Dola you’re gonna be fine.” That voice. He knows that voice, he...that voice is Jules. Julian. Right. He wanted Jules here because he’s scared and confused and Jules always seems to make him feel better whenever he’s around.

 

So if Jules is here, then he can just...sleep for little while.

 

Or maybe not?? Because the second his eyes start to drift shut everyone is yelling and it makes his head hurt so bad that he thinks he might actually start crying. He doesn’t have the energy to make any noise of pain, but he does manage a gasp, and his eyes squeeze shut against the pressure in his skull. Someone puts something over his nose and mouth, and it has small blunt plastic edges that sit firmly on his skin while cool air is pushed at him.

 

The whole time, there’s still a hand in his, squeezing it hard enough that he might actually have bruised fingers tomorrow. 

 

He peels his eyes open when he thinks its safe, but they only make to half mast before his body is willing them to shut again. He blinks a few times, feeling fuzzy and not really there.

 

A shape is leaning over him, taking up most of his fixed field of vision. He feels like he should know her, should maybe know whats going on, but the thought bubble bursts before he can really get a handle on worrying about it.

 

“Danny?” The voice speaks, faraway but very near at the same time. “You need to tell me, where are these bruises from?”

 

Danny thinks back to the night a few days back, thinks to the sharp punches, and knows the person needs to hear that those bruises are normal, but he can’t get the words out. He can’t get past the agony blocking out his thoughts and when he tries to remember where he is, or what’s going on, he can’t get farther than pain and more exhaustion.

 

He’s scared. He can’t think, and he knows thats bad and- and-

 

He doesn’t want to be alone anymore. He wants  _ Jules _ , he wants someone to help him, he wants the pain to stop. 

 

But Jules isn’t here.  And he really wants him to be.

 

His head hurts so, so bad, and he’s so confused at what’s going on but-

 

“You can’t tell him.” He slurs out, feeling himself falling closer and closer to unconsciousness. 

 

“Tell who?” Someone asks.

 

“Jules.” He mumbles. “Bruises ‘re from my dad, you can’t...can’t tell him….”

 

The person gripping his hand goes very tense, and very still, and Danny slips into oblivion.


	4. Promise Not To Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one, I know, next one is longer.

So the concussion was bad, worse than what the media gets told, but he escapes with a certain amount of luck that dictates that he will get to continue to play football, and that he won’t lose the only thing he’s good at.

 

He doesn’t remember much of that game, nor does he remember much of the week or so after, but he does have the vague impression of being worried about Edelman for some reason, but he doesn’t really know why.

 

Since the injury Edelman’s been sort of...fake around him. Not as close as he was before, not as eager for his company. He almost seems tired, but whenever Danny starts to ask him if he’s okay, the other receiver shut him down, and then disappears. 

 

Hell, they hung out more during the preseason than they have in the last few weeks that Danny’s been back, but he just tells himself that its Jules finally coming to his senses and realizing that Amendola is nothing but bad news, and he doesn’t want any part of it.

 

The words seem more and more hollow every time he whispers them to himself, and he can already feel the little ball of light start to shrivel and die in him. It feels like  _ he’s _ dying, watching Jules dance around him, but he’s desperately trying to hold out hope that it’s something else. That he didn’t read Edelman wrong, that something is just bothering him and Danny isn’t close enough to him to hear about it.

 

That Edelman does like him, and he’s not the kind of guy to go faking a friendship. 

 

But Sam started like that too. Danny told himself Sam wasn’t that kind of guy, and he got a black eye for believing it (he got a lot more pain than that, but at least the first time, he stopped at the black eye).

 

Danny thinks some sick part of him must enjoy getting his heart crushed again and again, because when Edelman and his friendship feels audibly strained, and he starts to feel like he might just be spiralling backwards without something to hold onto, he goes to find someone else. He tries to find the other ones who’ve made him feel okay with himself, the other people with whom he’s let get closer. 

 

It doesn’t go quite as planned.

 

\---------

 

Gronk is the happiest person he will ever meet. He also wears everything on his chest, and his heart is on his sleeve for almost all to see. And he’s mutual friends with Brady and Jules, so he’s the first person Danny goes to him first.

 

Hindsight being twenty-twenty, he might have picked a place that wasn’t the locker room, and he might have picked a better time than right before a game.

 

Still, when he slips his way over to where Gronk is standing, he expects for the other man to smile when he sees him, like he always does whenever someone comes to...well basically whenever he does anything except for football honestly.

 

What he gets is a small smiles and a tense,   _ “ _ Hey, ‘Dola. _ ” _

 

Danny blinks then goes to back away, taking a half step back and feeling his body start to tense up, while stammering out an apology.

 

“I didn’t mean to bother you man, I just wanted to- I’ll go-”

 

“Nah man its alright.” He says quickly, and for a quick second Danny almost thinks he sees a slight flash of panic in his eyes. “Just got a lot of stuff on my mind is all.” 

 

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I can- sorry, I’ll just-”

 

“Dola?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Stop apologizing.”

 

“Sorry.” Danny flinches the second he responds. Open mouth, insert foot. Rob’s eyes seem to darken, and Danny’s really fucking this up now, because how does he manage to get Rob ‘I love life’ Gronkowski to be angry at him?

 

“What do ya need?” Well, at least he’s not sending him away just yet.

 

“Um...I mean I know you aren’t the closest to him, but is there something that happened with Jules? Like that is bothering him or something?” Gronk looks suspicious, glancing sharply at his teammate but not really turning to engage with him.

 

“Why do you ask?” 

 

“Well, I just - Like I’m not trying to be a gossip or anything, but he’s been really weird, and I don’t know what I did wrong, so I thought maybe something else is going on and he just isn’t telling me but he won’t let me talk to him, even when I apologize.” Danny rambles. Rob furrows his brow, and for a second Danny thinks he sees anger in his eyes. 

 

“Maybe because he doesn’t want to hear your apology?” The much taller man snaps.

 

“Wh-why not?”

 

“Maybe because there’s nothing to apologize for?”

 

“I- what?”

 

“Dola, you apologize way too much. Maybe Jules got tired of hearing you self-deprecate.” 

 

Danny thinks that if Rob had just punched him in the chest, it would’ve hurt less. To say he’s taken aback would be an understatement. He’s confused and nervous, because is how he feels about himself really that obvious? Is he really  _ that  _ annoying?

 

“I...If something’s my fault I should apologize for it-” He tries to explain, to tell Rob  _ why _ .

 

“But that’s the  _ point _ , Dola! You apologize for shit that isn’t your fault, stuff that couldn’t even  _ possibly  _ be your fault! Why? Why do you do that?”

 

Danny opens his mouth, then closes it, feeling really, really, small. 

 

_ ‘Well, I was taught that everything was my fault in someway or another especially since I’m not worthy to be on a national football team never mind be standing next to you so my natural reflex to something going wrong is to apologize and hope you won’t hate me for it.’ _

 

He thinks maybe the only thing worse than not answering, is saying that in response, so he shuts his mouth. Gronk walks away, shaking his head, and Danny feels worse than he has in years. 

 

Because sure, it hurts thinking that you’re damaged and unworthy, but having someone you thought cared about you say that hurts even more. 

 

And to think he was actually doing  _ good _ .

 

He walks out of the locker room in a haze, and no matter how much he loves football, the game doesn’t help the horrible empty feeling in his chest.

 

They lose that game by a touchdown. The reason they lose by a touchdown is because Danny fumbles a catch and its marked incomplete.

 

Rob finds him in the locker room after, a look of guilt on his face. 

 

Danny asks him if he’s happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late because Allie quit bugging me. Not my fault.


	5. We Go Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry this is so short. Decided to post before my party :D hope you guys enjoy!

He doesn’t have anything left anymore. He left himself open (even though he knew, he  _ knew _ , this would happen, he  _ knew  _ he was going to get hurt) and now whatever brightness he had, they had taken. Whatever lightness, whatever - dare he say it -  _ happiness  _ Jules and the team had let him kindle, that is gone, extinguished faster than a flame doused in water.

 

They go home. Danny's barely speaks to anyone on the trip, partially because he can’t deal with the idea of expending that much energy, and partially because he doesn’t think anyone really wants to talk to him. 

 

The plane ride is nice, because he gets to sleep with his headphones in, and for a few, blissful hours, he can feel nothing. 

 

He wakes up with a headache and a pretty terrible ache in his neck, and is just coherent enough to stumble off the plane with all his parts intact. 

 

The Boston skyline is lit up, a beautiful scattering of lights shining brightly against the encroaching darkness of night. He wonders what the city would look like, if instead, all the lights were off. Would it still be beautiful and powerful? Or would it become silent and lost, like him?

 

As Danny stands there in the cold concrete and metal hangar that will house the Patriots jet until their next away game, he wonders what it would be like to just... _ stop _ .

 

And then Jules walks over, and naturally ruins everything. 

 

“Hey man, you ready to go?” He asks softly, and Danny almost nearly feels his heart crack in two. There’s so much he wants from Jules, so much he wants from this team, from this life, so much that he’s never had, but only seen in others.

 

And that’s maybe what’s kept him going all this time. That idea that maybe, just maybe, after this, it could be better.

 

Danny thinks he found better. Thinks that he found great. And that great just doesn’t want him. 

 

“Dola…” He hears the weary tone in Jules voice, and finds himself nodding automatically. He turns with a soft whispered, raspy ‘ _ yeah’ _ and lets Jules lead the way out to the car. 

 

He pauses for a second to stare at the skyline once more, before the workers slide the huge metal door shut, a definitive clang signalling the end of times.

 

\---------------------------------------------------

 

Danny's has had bad days before. The Rams was a constant string of bad days, an experience spent in a cloud of fear and pain. But some days, when things with his dad got really bad, he’d end up in room, under the covers of his bed, just staring nothing when he was awake and sleeping as much as he could. He’d think about everything and anything, or he’d think about nothing at all. It wasn’t that he didn’t know it was bad for him, it was just he’d lay there, telling himself all the things he should do, but having no energy to do them.

 

The game was Sunday, they flew back Sunday night, and now it’s tuesday, and Danny has yet to leave his room. Except to pee. Because that was an activity that his mind seemed to allot all energy reserves to completing, and it doesn’t count because his bathroom was attached to his room.

 

And he’d been doing a lot of thinking. So much so that he probably should start a list of major points to study from.

 

So he’s decided that Gronk probably had something else going on in his life at the time they talked, so that’s why the normally super bubbly guy was tense. He’s also decided that he has no right to angry at Gronk, since he’s only telling it as he sees it, and its Danny's fault for not realizing it before hand. He’s known for a while now that the Patriots are different, so it makes sense that they’d react to him different. 

 

He’s also realized how much trouble he’s in. 

 

If the not so little voice in his head is right, and everything he does is wrong in someway, then there’s no reason for Jules to like him. There’s no reason for anyone to like him. There’s no legitimate reason for him to stick around anymore, except to make things worse. 

 

He’d be lying, if he said he’d never thought about offing himself before. There were multiple times as kid, where he’d promise himself in a fit of tears, that he was going to do it.

 

Tomorrow.

 

See as kid he didn’t know the pain he knows now, and as a kid, he believed that when he grew up, it’d be better. He also figured that he didn’t have a good enough reason the kill himself, because it wasn’t like his familial struggles were anything bad really.

 

It wasn’t like he had anything to complain about.

 

He’d like to say that the Rams gave him something to talk about, but really, if the Rams were that bad, then he should’ve done it then, and saved the Patriots and himself the trouble.

 

Because he is trouble. A lot of it.

 

He knows that he wants to stop. He wants to stop living in so much pain, but if he’s being brutally honest with himself, the past few months, he  _ was _ . He wasn’t struggling through each breath, wasn’t looking in the mirror and lying to himself that football was enough to keep going. He didn’t have to. He just...existed. He might’ve even called it living, if he was still doing it.

 

But he knew it had to end eventually. He just thought after basically being told by Brady that he wasn’t being traded, that he would at least get a year.

 

How stupid of him. How stupid of him to hope, to  _ think _ this wouldn’t happen.

 

_ You don’t deserve anything. _

 

Three months, and he was becoming a different person. He was opening up, he was looking forward, he was learning to raise his head every once in a while.

 

Then this happened. He was broken in too many places to ever be whole again.

 

Except. 

 

Except maybe he wasn’t. Because he just might’ve taken his life the very same night he came home, if it wasn’t for Jules. Jules and the soft way he talked to him, Jules and his worried glances at Danny in the passenger seat as they drove home, Jules and the way nervous way he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel that said he wanted to talk but was scared of saying the wrong thing.

 

Jules, Jules, Jules. 

 

Jules who was in the same apartment as him, because Danny said yes the second time he was asked if he wanted to room with him. 

 

Jules who would probably be scarred for life, should he find Danny’s body in the bathroom. And even if the other wide receiver wanted more space, Danny doesn’t want to subject him to that. 

 

Danny also doesn’t want to die. So that’s a nice thing that he should remember more often.

 

That major revelation comes while hearing Jules talking on the phone to someone, just outside his room. Actually, it comes right afterwards. Right after he stops talking (to Tom, probably) and knocks really gently on his bedroom door, and quietly calls that he’ll be back in a few hours.

 

It’s most probably unhealthy that the simple sound of Julian's voice makes the stupid dark empty pit of misery he’s got in his chest become just a tad less...stupid dark and empty. Miserable stays, sure, because now he knows that _ oh fuck _ ,  _ I really like this guy, and he probably wants me to move out by now _ .

 

Current reason for living: to pine away after the first guy who was sincerely nice to him in probably his entire life.

 

Additional bonus’ of living: not damaging said guy for life by making him find his roommates body, being able to play football in the national league, being able to play football in the national league next to said guy as well as some really nice teammates, being able to hear that guys voice, being able hear that guy laugh, being able to take really long nice warm showers in the apartment he shares with that guy.

 

The last one he added on after he got out of bed. 

 

Hot water pours over his back while he massages shampoo into his greasy hair, feeling marginally better after standing under the stream for a good ten minutes. 

 

He’s broken again, and he’s living for someone else, but he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can fix things. 

 

He can try, at least.

 


	6. One Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ,,,it begins. Also, talking helps boys. Try it.

Things don’t instantly get better with that decision. That not really how emotions work, and Danny knows that. It’s just, sometimes he wishes he could turn off the bad part of him. Like, when he says to himself that he wants things to be better, then he wishes that they would be. It takes so much energy and effort and pain to get to that decision, that he almost feels cheated when the darkness inside him doesn’t instantly go away.

 

He knows it doesn’t work that way, but he wishes it did. Because looking in the mirror has always been hard, but now he realizes  _ how  _ hard, and to stare at himself and not hate what he sees has always been something he’s aspired to do.

 

Because if he’s done that, then that must mean he’s living - that must mean he’s changed. It must mean that he’s _something_ _more_ than what his parents valued him as. 

 

And that’s always been it, hasn’t it? That what his parents - what his  _ Dad  _ thought of him, what his Dad still thinks of him - is what everyone else thinks of him, and it’s how Danny should think of himself.  

 

To say he wants things to be better, is to admit that things were bad in the first place. To decide that he wants to change is admitting that what he is now, is not someone he wants to be. 

 

To decide to live, means that what he’s doing now is simply surviving. It means that what his Dad did was  _ wrong _ , it means that what the Rams did was criminal, it means that what the Patriots are doing is  _ right _ .

 

It means that he has to admit to himself, that what his life has been so far is  _ not  _ okay. That maybe what his parents did, was not okay, that maybe it’s not normal to know how to put on makeup to hide bruises, maybe it’s not  _ normal  _ to be scared of being happy.

 

Maybe his dad was manipulative. Maybe his mom was unsupportive. Maybe, if he doesn’t deserve anything, than he earns what he gets. And if he falls back on that idea, then he earned what his father did to him, and he earned what the Rams did, but he also earned being with the Patriots, just like he earned the privilege to be in the NFL, playing the game he loves. He earned his friendship with Julian, and with Rob, and with Tom and Shane and Slate and  _ everyone _ .

 

Danny doesn’t know for sure that this team isn’t like the Rams, but he’s got a pretty damn good idea that they aren’t (he  _ hopes _ , for the love of god that they aren’t, because that would break him beyond the point of return, but he allows himself to hope, because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose them). He’s got the impression that this team isn’t randomly made up of players with nice stats, but are instead chosen with the idea of character in mind. He’s learned since the Rams, learned the little signs that some of them showed, learned the tells and the motions and the anger that they just always kept hidden. 

 

He sees that anger sometimes, bubbling under the surface of Tom’s cool personality, or sitting strong and ready in Julians spirit. But that type of anger is only vicious when threatened, or when something they care about it threatened; it’s not always there, waiting to strike at a moments notice.

 

He thinks that if he made it here, and he earned his place on this team, then someone  _ had  _ to think he was worthy of it. Or at least had the potential to be worthy of it. 

 

So maybe he wants to keep proving them right - and prove his Dad, and everyone else wrong. That part of him is small and fierce and brighter than the rest of him, but it’s there regardless. 

 

That part - that part is ready to move on. 

 

The rest of him is still dark and cold and miserable and  _ scared,  _ but that won’t change over night, and that won’t change with him staying in his room for the rest of his life. So when Jules comes home, he’s strategically placed himself in the kitchen, and he definitely has  _ not  _ scouted every possibly escape route and planned out several feasible conversation enders that could be exercised without question or protest.

 

He hasn’t. Swear to god. 

 

He’s in the kitchen for a reason, because Jules will have to go by it in order to get to any other place in the house, and it’s a totally nonchalant place to be sipping a glass of water and playing with his phone. That way when Jules comes back, he can act all surprised, and it won’t look like he’s been standing there for forty five minutes just waiting for the other man to come home.

 

It’s all planned perfectly.

 

That plan goes out the window the second he hears a key in the lock. 

 

Theres a string of swears running in a continuous loop in Danny’s head, just barely escaping being covered by the white static of panic that’s consuming the rest of his thoughts. What was he trying to do here again? Why the hell is he standing in his kitchen looking for a deliberate conversation?

 

What in the actual  _ fuck  _ was he thinking?

 

The lock slides, and there’s the sound of the door opening, a thump followed by a soft curse, then the creak of the door closing and the deadbolt re-engaging. Danny wants to run, but his side of the house (aka, his bedroom) is across the floor, meaning he’d have to go past Jules to get there. 

 

He sips his water and stares at his phone and tries not to throw up all over the island countertop. He listens to Jules shuffle around in the small hallway that serves as an entryway, hears him kick of his shoes and drop his keys on the tiny table and sigh just like he always does when he gets away from the public eye. Danny’s heart climbs into his throat as the soft footfalls get closer, and he only looks up when they stop completely.

 

Jules is frozen on the other side of the granite island, one of his JE11 hats sitting crooked on his head, water dripping off the brim. The dark sweatshirt he wears is soaked around the shoulders and arms, and the water bottle he’s got in one hand has water droplets on the outside of it.

 

(Danny almost jumps him then and there.)

 

But there’s shock on Julians face, and a whole truck load of uncertainty, so before the silence can get anymore tense, Danny tries to kickstart the whole fiasco.

 

“Is it raining?” He asks, then just stops himself from rolling his eyes. Well shit, wasn’t  _ that  _ the most intelligent thing he could’ve said. Jules nods, but his posture softens minutely.

 

“What are you doing up Dola?” He asks softly. “It’s like three in the morning.” Danny jolts, and quickly checks his phone. Sure enough, the time flashes across the screen letting him know that its five till the hour. And Jules knocked on his bedroom door around...nine. Wow.

 

He shifts, biting his lip and thinking about what to say.

 

“I, uh...well I figured that I owe you...something, at least. And, um, you said that you were only gonna be a few hours, and its been like six, so I was...worried.” He stammers out, swallowing reflexively. This time Jules looks a little guilty, but steps closer, taking off hat and putting the half-empty water bottle on the counter. 

 

“Yeah, sorry about that I didn’t think you were…” He clears his throat. “Uh, so Tom wants to know if you’re good for practice tomorrow? Or today. Or whatever.” 

 

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Can you give me a ride?” Jules nods, stepping back a little, and it’s stupidly awkward between them. Danny hates it. 

 

“Leave by eleven.” He says, then grabs his hat and starts to walk away. 

 

“Jules-” Danny calls. The other man stops, but doesn’t turn around. Danny is tired, and he just wants to go to bed and wake up feeling better, but he’s panicked about this for a few eternity, so if it doesn’t happen now, then it never will. “You can ask, you know.”

 

That gets Edelman to turn around. His face is carefully neutral, but there’s a spark of something in his eyes that gleams in the dim kitchen lighting. Danny half expects the response to be  _ “ask what? _ ”, but Jules isn’t one to dance around a hard subject. Either he goes after it or he doesn’t. And tonight Danny’s giving him the opportunity to do the former.

 

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice still carefully soft, face nearly expressionless. Danny knows he’s referring the the fact that he basically didn’t exist for the last two days, but hes not about to lie to him. So instead of letting  _ ‘yes’  _ slip from his tongue in a well practiced lie, he just shrugs.

 

“I just have a hard time believing I can keep something.” He responds, voice weaker than he’d like it to be. Jules just blinks.

 

“You aren’t going to- I thought Tom told you that you weren’t being traded. Last game was a loss, but it wasn’t just  _ your  _ loss, okay. We’re a team, we win and lose as a  _ team _ . If the whole game was decided by one player, then it shouldn’t matter whether the defense performs, or whether or not the offensive line can hold for Tom, because that one player would be able to win it for us. Right?”

 

“No, but that’s not-”

 

“There was a lot going on in that game Danny, and I promise you it wasn’t decided by the pass you dropped - which, by the way, you only dropped because you got fuckin  _ destroyed  _ by one of their defensive lineman.”

 

“Okay, but-”

 

“And for the love of god,  _ no _ , the team was not and is not mad at you, they were fucking worried, because they thought you were hurt, and you wouldn’t tell anyone if you  _ were _ , so-”

 

“Would you  _ shut up _ ?!” Danny yells, trying to push back the sting he feels listening to Julian's words.

 

It’s hard to hear that you’re cared about when all your life you’ve been told you’re nothing.

 

Amendola rarely yells, (rarely  _ talks  _ if he’s being honest), so the hidden advantage there is that when he does open his mouth, people listen.

 

Jules is, of course, the exception. There is a brief moment of silence, then the surprise on his face turns to anger, he’s yelling right back.

 

“Are you  _ kidding  _ me right now?! Are you fucking- Do you have any idea-”

 

“Will you _ fucking let me talk _ -”

 

“ _ No! _ Because in case you were wondering what  _ I’ve  _ been doing for the last two days, it hasn’t been relaxing and playing video games, it’s been staring at your door and debating whether or not to go barging in there and make sure you weren’t  _ dead! _ ” 

 

His yell echoes around the kitchen, and Danny is left standing there in shock, wide-eyed and breathing heavy. Julian stares at him for a second longer then drops his eyes, shaking his head and running a hand through his hat hair. 

 

“I don’t want to lose you.” Edelman mumbles eventually, eyes staring straight at the floor. 

 

_ ‘Oh _ .’ Danny thinks. ‘ _ Oh he was- oh.’ _

 

And Danny doesn’t want to lose Jules either, but he feels like saying it outloud might just be daring the universe, so while his heart screams the words, his throat is tight and his mouth is dry and nothing goes past his lips.

 

“I didn’t mean to do that.” He rasps eventually. “To make you worry, I- I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t really thinking.” ...about that, anyway. “I just- I-I’ve never...I’ve never had  _ this _ .” Danny huffs out.

 

“Had what?” Jules asks softly. “Some who cares about you?”

 

Danny can’t hide the flinch, because-

 

Because no. Maybe he hasn’t. Not someone who actually cares about  _ him,  _ about his flaws and his happiness, about his performance and his life and whether or not he drinks enough water before games because  _ “dola if you passed out it would scare the shit out of me and Tom would go into mother hen mode and do you know what that’s like??? No?? You don’t want to, now drink.” _

 

“You don’t have to talk to me about it.” Julian says. “You don’t have to tell me anything - but know that I am looking out for you. I’m not going to leave, at least not willingly. I’m here, whatever you need.” 

 

It actually physically hurts Danny to hear those words, because he knows Jules means it, but he doesn’t think Jules understand just how much they mean to  _ him _ . It’s like he’s been running on nothing but fumes, and Jules His throat is so tight he feels like he can’t breath, and his mouth stands open, ready to speak but having no words to say. His eyes are hot but he refuses to let the tears fall. 

 

“Thank you.” He says finally, still staring at Jules. He doesn’t know what this conversation was supposed to be, but he knows he didn’t expect this. “I can’t- you don’t- just...thank you.” 

 

Jules nods slowly, taking a step or two back.

 

“Get some sleep Dola. Coach is gonna kill both of us tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heheheh we're getting closer ladies an gents, we're getting closer.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone whos left kudos or comment!! They make my day, you guys are awesome!


	7. Work Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol posting schedule? what posting schedule? *sobs* Nah but for reals im going on vacation where the internet is gun be...iffy at best, so im risking the wrath of my fam to get this chapter up before it leave.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> also IMPORTANT: there is a time jump from last chapter to this one.

Things do not get instantly magnificently better after that, but they do change. And isn’t that weird? The way things change, and the way we generalize our life as a collection of  _ things  _ therefore implying the complicated matter of living is in face a collection of over simplified objects. 

 

But they change a lot, more so than we think. People like to assume that things don’t, or that when they do it’s a rapid shift that’s quick and violent. The reality is that most things change a little bit everyday, a small amount every minute, a tiny bit every second. This happens constantly as we live, until you look at something you haven’t seen in a while, and it feels like it suddenly is different.

 

Danny changed. It takes him over a year to realize it, but he has definitely changed. 

 

He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t due to Jules. 

 

But according to Jules, he has to give himself some credit. 

 

_ “Not everyone can pull themselves up like you did.” _ He told Danny one night, a month or so after Danny told him about his Dad’s...different style of parenting.

 

_ “Not everyone has someone helping me like I did.”  _ Danny had responded. They were sitting on the edge of the pool, leaning back against the fence with a beer in had and feet in the water while the fading fall sunset the skin ablaze.

 

It wasn’t the best memory he had of Jules and him, but it was up there. They do that a lot after that first night, just sitting around and talking. Sometimes they’d watch a movie, other times they’d play ping pong till an ungodly hour (alcohol not needed when you’re so tired you laugh at the way the other one  _ breathes _ ), or there’d be card games and penny bets. They’d go for walks, go to bars with Gronk, sneak into theaters or drive into Boston and walk around the coast line.

 

And all the while Danny learns things. He learns that Jules will always prefer a heavy beer versus a whisky or scotch, and that he loves action movies but only likes to see them once, and preferably in the theater. The man is horrible at table tennis, and no matter what card game Danny and him play, Danny will almost always win. 

 

Always.

 

He even beat him at go-fish.

 

He loves watching sunsets but only to see the different colors the cloud turn, and when coupled with Rob he turns into the mans mini counterpart, a bouncing ball of craziness that is a recipe for some pretty hilarious stunts when you add alcohol into the mix (they once got on the roof of Danny and Jules shared residence and  _ jumped into the pool _ at THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING while wearing multi colored tutus and mickey mouse ears).

 

(He has the video.)

 

He also learns that Jules loves to tell stories, and it’s the way he tells them that makes them so hilarious. But just as much as Jules loves to tell stories, he loves to listen to them, so when Danny has nothing funny to say, he’s more than willing to listen to the hard things, to the stories that sit heavy in his heart and taste like ash on his tongue.

 

Danny told him about his dad on a warm night in October, when they’re sitting outside on the sun warmed stones with their jeans rolled up and feet in the cool water (it sorta became a ritual to sit like that). Jules listened, didn’t say a word till the end, when he told him he knew.

 

_ “How?” _

 

_ “When you were concussed back in September, I was there in the med room. They asked you were the bruises on your torso were from. You told them.” _

 

It abates the fear of being looked at differently pretty quick. It also explains why Jules was acting weird those few weeks after. 

 

He doesn’t tell him about what happened with the Rams, though. He still hasn’t. It’s been over a year since they met, and its opening week, and he still hasn’t told him what happened. He doesn’t know if he ever will, but he thinks he should, because ignoring it won’t make it go away. 

 

He learned that. Ignoring things do not make them go away. Fun fact. Talking with Jules though, being resigned by the Patriots, distancing himself from his Dad and getting closer with his friends, that’s made things go away.

 

Or at least, get easier to carry.

 

It’s how he realizes that he’s changed so much. They lose a game, and he misses four throws, but instead of getting sucked into that black hole that he’s lived most of his life in, he’s only miserable for a few hours, and then he’s thinking of what happens next and how he gets better, and that’s not something he would’ve done when he first signed.

 

Everything's changed, but it’s also the same too. He still doesn’t look at himself in the mirror, and there's still that voice that tells him that he’s not good enough for the team and for Jules, that he doesn’t deserve to keep them, that it’s all going to get ripped away from him like everything else good in his life has.

 

Some days the voice is a whisper. Other days, it’s screaming. But one thing that’s always there is Jules, and he always stays and talks to him until the voice quiets down enough for him to hear the good things in life again.

 

Danny needs Jules like he needs air, and he knows it. He knows that its a great way to get hurt, but he doesn’t  _ care, _ because he gets to see him smile and laugh and be sad and angry and happy and  _ everything _ . He gets to see that, he gets to see that and know that some of that is because of him. He gets to feel light and happy and  _ human _ , and Jules lets him.

 

He’s in love with his best friend, but he knows better than to wreck it all by telling him.

 

So he stays, and he learns things, not just about Jules but about himself too, and about Tom and Gronk and Slater and Cookie. 

 

He never finds out what was going on with Gronk that day, but he knows that despite what everyone thinks, the man  _ does  _ occasionally get in a bad mood. He just correctly assumes that something really bad has to have happened, or he’s getting sick. Rob also does  _ not  _ need alcohol to do crazy shit, and it was Danny’s mistake of introducing the man to Nitro Circus, because next thing he knew they were racing big wheels through Foxborough. 

 

The man also has insane sniping skills, and has an entire arsenal of embarrassing pictures - of  _ everyone _ . He’s seen some of the ones of Tom. They’re pure gold.

 

Tom also, despite his insane diet, has an affinity for ice cream. The couple of times that Jules dragged Danny over to Tom’s house after practice in the off season, he always ends up eating the stuff. Jules, for all his big talk about how he doesn’t want any, will cave completely if Danny starts eating it (which is logic he doesn’t understand, but Julian Edelman is an enigma, so he’s grown used to it).

 

He doesn’t particularly like being over Tom’s house, mostly because of how  _ perfect  _ it all is. It’s beautiful but it’s cold, and he hates how its so much better than anything he’d ever had in his life. It makes him feel inadequate, even though he knows that between Brady and Gisele they could probably buy The Patriots from Kraft if they really felt like it. 

Danny likes Tom, he really does, because the man pushes himself to the max then says his success is only because of the team, and he believes it. He does everything for his team, but sometimes just standing in the same room as him makes Danny feel small and inadequate.

 

He also will never let Tom know that, because he knows the man would feel so bad about it, and Danny refuses to make him feel like his mere presence is painful. He tells Jules though, one night when he’s tired of everything and everyone, and the other man wouldn’t stop pushing. 

 

Sometimes Jules doesn’t know when to stop, but Danny also feels like that’s a good thing just as much as it is a bad thing. Because he needs to get things out, but when he’s really not ready it just hurts more to be pushed. 

 

He knows that sometimes he really just needs space. He just needs a little time alone, to decompress and think his way through all the dark thoughts in his head, and to just  _ be  _ him. It’s not that he feels like it’s an act that he has to perform around Jules, because its not (not anymore, anyway). It’s just that it takes energy, and sometimes when he runs out of energy he gets this racy feeling in his stomach and under his skin and he sits on the edge of panic until he can get some time alone.

 

Jules calls it “recharging his social battery”, and Danny likes that term, but he feels like it’s incomplete, because it doesn’t happen all the time. It just becomes to much sometimes, and he knows that Julian tries to understand, but he’s never had to deal with it, so he can’t get a full grasp of what Danny’s talking about. Danny appreciates him nonetheless, because he acknowledges that he doesn’t understand how it works, but he tries anyway. 

 

Danny falls in love with him more everyday, and there's some times where it just makes his soul ache, because he wants so badly to be able to  _ tell  _ him. But he won’t dare ruin what they have, because he knows losing Julian would feel a million times worse than loving him and not be loved back. 

 

He read somewhere that the easiest way to die without dying was to love someone who doesn’t love you back. And some days, he thinks its true. 

 

But if it is, then he’s perfectly content to die loving Jules, because he’s the one who’s helped him live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Don't worry, the next chapter is longer and more stuff happens.


	8. Into The Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - violence in this one, as well as brief racial and homophobic language ( and whump for my whumpers)
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys!

Danny may have changed for the better, but his dad certainly hasn’t. He’s found that out in a number of instances, most being text messages or angry phone calls after games. They always hurt and send him back to where he was before, but he decides that blocking him is too childish (despite Julians multitude of reasons why its  _ not _ ). 

 

It’s in the back half of the season, and they’ve just pushed their way through a very tough game against the SeaHawks. The locker room lacks the normal excited chatter that happens after a win, and Danny’s knees is acting up and he just wants to go home and sit on the couch with an ice pack and Jules. 

 

He wants to watch a movie and binge on popcorn and pizza and  _ not  _ think about all the times he fucked up today, and he wants to do so sitting closer than normal to his best friend.

 

He should’ve known things wouldn’t be that easy.

 

They’re in Foxborough, a reason to make this loss sting all the more, because really, losing at their home turf in a game they  _ could’ve won _ , that’s just fucking embarrassing. Danny is taking his time packing up, and about half the players are following suit, lingering longer than normal. A lot left as soon as they could, not wanting to stick around after losing by almost two touchdowns. 

 

Yet somehow, Jules is  _ still  _ standing around in half his uniform, leaning against Tom’s little cubby thing and talking to him and Gronk. Looking over, Danny can almost clearly see the scene play out. Gronk invites both them to a bar, Tom instantly shaking his head while Jules gives it a few seconds thought before denying the request. He thinks he sees Julians eyes shift over to him for a second before he answers, but the action is quick enough that he can’t be sure. 

 

Regardless, Jules was his ride here, and is his ride home. 

 

Danny also has the keys to his car (having stolen them for this exact reason) and heaves the duffle bag over his shoulder while Robs laughter floats through air. The giant of a man grins way to widely once he sees Danny approach, leaning over to say something in Jules ear that makes the other man blush.

 

“Shut  _ up  _ Rob.” Julian hisses. The tight end giggles then quickly leaves the group to go back to his own locker and grab his stuff. Danny just raises an eyebrow at Edelman, who blushes even further before shaking his head.

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“Sure.” Danny agrees easily. “Move your ass old man, I’ll be in the car.” 

 

Ignoring the indignant “ You think  _he’s_ old?! _ ”  _ from Tom, Danny turn to make his way out of the locker room.

 

“How the hell are you going to get in Danny, its my car!” Jules calls, and Danny just smirks, keeping his back to the other man and walking slowly.

 

“And?” He responds.

 

“You need keys to open it smartass!”

 

He holds up the key ring for Jules to see as he walks out of the locker room. "These keys?" Tom’s laughter echoes in the room as he pushes through the doors.

 

The back halls are empty; reporters, cameras, and other personnel having left by this point, despite Tom still being in the locker room. Coach, Brady, Gronk and a few of the other players gave their five or so minutes to the press almost directly after the game, and the security team probably cleared everyone else out. It’s been a good hour and half since the official ending of the game, so the fans are gone, maybe a few stragglers still in the residential parking. 

 

It should be empty. So Danny really doesn’t understand what’s going on when he suddenly finds himself on the floor, blood filling his mouth and pain exploding in his knee. Someone pushed him from behind, and the force of it combined with the knowledge that he was walking  _ alone _ , so there was little bracing for impact (hence his knee and face smacking hard against the concrete). 

 

He gets to his hands and knees, spitting out blood from the cut inside his mouth. Before he can get any further than a feeling of surprise and pain, there's a hand gripping the back of his neck tightly, and a boot stepping painfully on his left hand. 

 

“Hey  _ kid _ .” A deep, scratchy voice crawls past his ear, hot breath that smells like alcohol brushing the side of his face at the same time.

 

The anger that was bubbling in his stomach quickly freezes, fear crawling down his spine and making his heart rate spike.

 

“Dad.” Danny breathes, not understanding  _ how,  _ he’s in _ Foxborough,  _ this can’t be happening this- how did he get _ here- _

 

The boot is removed from Danny’s hand, and he quickly pulls it towards himself, jerking backwards and twisting to get the older mans hand from his neck. 

 

It works - Danny gets almost upright while still on his knees - but then a fist slams into his jaw, sending him tumbling backwards onto his side. His head cracks against the concrete wall, combining with the force of the punch to make his head incredibly foggy. 

 

“You screwed this up you know.” His Dad growls. “They would have won if it weren’t for  _ you _ .” He rushes Dola then, and Danny just gets to sitting up when he hits him, a sharp kick to the ribs that actually Danny from the ground. Danny cries out despite himself, memories of losing games when he was younger flashing behind his eyes and making him even more confused and scared. His head is heavy, full of grey static and confusion.

 

There’s a few more sharp kicks, and his Dad is still yelling, spitting nasty horrible things, things that Danny believed for so long, things that he still believes somewhere inside him. Things that he’s been scared everyone else believes too. 

 

“You’re  _ nothing _ !” His father screams at him, bending down to slam a fist into his ribs. “You don’t deserve to be here, to be playing! You only exist to hurt people!”

 

Danny curls on his side trying to escape the pain, but the blows keep coming, and it’s getting hard to keep his eyes open while also concentrating on breathing.

 

“You think you’re what?  _ Friends  _ with them? If you really cared about them, you’d leave before you hurt them like you do to  _ everybody  _ in your life!” The words cut deep, but its old wounds, its a knife running across barely scabbed skin. It digs in and settles in the old places, and it hurts too much to reminded of all that he’s worked to forget.

 

He’s right though. Danny knows he is. He will hurt Jules, he has already. 

 

He loves him. He loves him, and he never wants to hurt him, but he has. He has, and he will, and that knowledge hurts Danny more than the bruises under his skin and the blows raining down. 

 

It hurts more than living.

 

There’s a pair of hands fisting the fabric of his jacket, tugging him upright to sit against the wall. His vision sharpens enough for him to make out his old mans face, the bloodshot, dark angry eyes an exact match to his memory of youth.

 

“I see the way you look that pretty little receiver.” His old man hisses. Two hands wrap around his neck, quickly tightening to cut off his airflow. Danny’s eyes widen, and he kicks out painfully, hands clawing at those squeezing his throat. “I knew you were a fucking faggot. I bet he takes it from everyone on the team. Hell-” He interrupts himself to laugh, cruel and angry. “I bet you’re jealous of the way he sounds when he’s getting from them big black boys.”

 

The last of Danny’s air rushes past his lips in a high pitched cry, and he twists desperately, feeling light headed and heavy at the same time. Anger floods through him, white hot and burning as he listens to the sharp words, and one of his hands snaps out on its own accord, swiping across his dads face like he has claws instead of fingernails. 

 

It’s one of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard, listening to his dad yell out in pain. 

 

Unfortunately, as the abused kid inside him cowers in terror, he knows that any chance he had at getting his dad to stop is instantly out the window, and the hands tighten even further. Danny sees stars, which bloom into white and grey spots that cover his vision as his eyes roll back. There’s a copper taste in his mouth, and his limbs are numb, and a strange rushing noise in his ears. It feels like he’s falling, going farther and farther until there’s nothing left to feel or to see, when suddenly- 

 

Suddenly-

 

“-your fucking hands off me!”

 

“Jules, you’ll kill him!”

 

“ _ Good!” _   Someone - Jules - snarls, and if Danny wasn’t two steps away from dying, he might be able to feel worried about the careless rage in Julian’s voice.

 

Dying. Dying? Is that what just happened? Had he really almost-

 

He hit his dad.

 

He  _ hit  _ his  _ dad _ .

 

He’s never,  _ ever  _ fought back against his father. It just wasn’t something he could do - it would only lead to more punishment. 

 

Somehow, despite all the fear and adrenaline and thousand other things that are going through his head in a jumbled mess, that’s what stands out. He can feel his limbs again, and he’s still gasping, and there’s hands on him, but he feels it all far, far away. It’s nothing compared to the burst of elation and awe that happens somewhere deep in his chest. 

 

He fought back. He fought back against his dad. He fought back against his dad because of what he said about Jules, about  _ his  _ team, his friends.

 

He’s never seen his dad that angry before. Never thought that his dad would try to- to kill him, and it’s stupid, he’s so stupid because even now, while he’s laying confused and hurt in a concrete hallway, barely conscious and wheezing out breathes, even while he  _ knows _ that the reason he’s here is his dad, there’s a small voice that whispers that his dad didn’t mean it, that he’s drunk and he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t have done that when he was sober.

 

But he would have. He has. Maybe not to the point of choking his son to death, but Danny’s dad did do this to him, drunk, sober, high, angry, and calm. He did this.

 

He  _ did  _ this. He made him feel pain, inside and out, he made Danny think that he was worth nothing, that he deserved nothing, that he  _ was  _ nothing, and only brought pain and darkness to those close to him. He made Danny so messed up that he couldn’t fight back against the Rams, so messed up that hates himself and everything that he does. 

 

But Jules - Jules and Tom and Rob and Slate and Chris and  _ all of them _ \- they made him feel happiness. They made Danny think he was worth something, that they were worth something, and that what he has (and what he  _ could  _ have) is something that’s worth sticking around for, worth fighting for. They made him feel human and they made him feel safe.

 

He hasn’t had that in a long time.

 

His dad doesn’t love him. Doesn’t care about him. Maybe he never did. But the people around him now, Jules and Tom and Rob - they do. They care, and they’ve cared enough to fight for him, to fight back when he couldn’t even muster the strength to exist. 

 

It’s gotta be the irony of all ironies that Danny finally realizes and accepts this not even a five minutes after getting the shit beaten out of him by his dad  _ in the tunnels of Gillette Stadium. _

 

“Dola just breathe for me okay? We’re gonna get you help, the ambulance will be here soon alright? Just breath, real easy.” Tom’s voice, suddenly louder and more clear, is probably meant to be soothing, but only sends urgency though him, riding on the tails of renewed fear. He jerks out of his thoughts, body protesting the movement heavily. 

 

“Hey, easy, easy Dola, it’s okay, he’s gone, you’re safe.” A different voice coos, this one right in his ear and softer.  _ Jules. _

 

There’s a hand on his neck, and a thumb tilts his chin up carefully. He’s exhausted, mentally and physically, so while it aches, he’s not very keen on spending the energy to do something about it.

 

“I’ll  _ murder  _ him.” Jules hisses after a beat of tense silence, and Danny inhales too sharply at the cold rage in his best friends tone. It sends him into a harsh coughing fit, which isn’t the funnest activity when his entire torso and chest feels like one giant bruise and his throat feels like it's littered with knifes. He arches his back, desperately trying to get oxygen into his lungs while trying to stop coughing because it  _ hurts,  _ hurts bad enough that it brings tears to his eyes.

 

Just when he’s about ready to cut his throat out just to stop coughing, his lungs calm enough that he can wheeze in a few breaths and get control of the reflex. He’s sitting up now, his back is against someone’s chest, strong and sturdy. He lets his head loll against the person's shoulder, breathing carefully and with deliberate slowness. His throat feels hot and swollen, and it’s almost too hard to swallow, but he can vaguely recall Tom’s words, and there’s no singular part of this that’s okay with anything that’s happened.

 

Certainly not going to the hospital. 

 

The chest he’s leaning on hitches a breath as he stills, struggling to open his eyes.

 

“Danny?” Jules. Of course it’s Jules. “Hey, hey Dola, open your eyes.” He pleads. It’s a struggle, but he does manage it after a few moments, forcing his eyes to flutter open, letting his gaze swim wherever it pleases. Tom is in front of him, a hand resting on Danny’s leg, wearing his  _ “Julian just got hit really hard and I’m pissed off and worried but I can’t do anything about it” _ face (and yes, that  _ is  _ a thing), and he can’t really see Jules behind him. 

 

“Hey Danny? The ambulance is almost here okay, just stay still and take easy breathes.” Tom says, calm and collected, and a part of Danny hates that he  _ knows  _ now, but another part of him feels...better. Like maybe now Tom will understand why he does what he does, why he tries so hard, why he says the things he says. Like Tom will understand that Danny isn’t trying to be needy or annoying, he’s just trying to be good and accepted and if he needs to be told that Tom isn’t mad at him in order to accept it then it’s just a product of his past.

 

“Don’t want-” He cuts himself off with a sharp cough as talking aggravates his throat. “-don’t- can’t-” Sucking in a breath is like breathing through a straw, and yeah, he probably should be monitored by a medical professional, but he doesn’t want for this to go everywhere. Tom is big news, so is Jules, and if this gets out...he can’t. He can’t even think about that, can’t even consider what it would be like to have this out in the open, to have  _ everyone  _ know the shit show that is his life. It’s hard enough for Danny to accept that Tom knows about this, and he’s one of his best friends.

 

“Dola they gotta check you out okay? We just want to make sure you’re alright.” Tom says, and Danny finds himself shaking his head, making his breath catch at the spike in pain.

 

“People-” He whispers, hoping that won’t aggravate his throat as much. “Don’t want...them too...see.” He has to pause every couple of words to inhale. Jules, who’s been abnormally quiet, tenses up behind him. Tom’s eyebrows come together in a face of concentration, but he nods slowly. 

 

“Yeah, hey we’ll figure it out okay? Jules can go with you and I’ll go out the front or something, should be enough cover to get your guys into the ambulance without anyone seeing. We can talk to PR-” Danny’s eyes widen, and no that’s exactly what he doesn’t want  _ Thomas  _ \- “Just my guys! Literally just one person, and I won’t tell him everything, and he’ll make something up to tell the press. Like you slipped and fell in the shower or something.” Tom rushes to finish.

 

“We won’t tell anyone without your permission okay?” Jules says quietly, voice dark and serious. Danny can feel it rumbling through his chest where his back is pressed up against him, and tries to ignore the little flower of warmth in his stomach that comes with being held by Jules.

 

“Okay Danny?” Jules says again, slightly worried and deliberately wanting a response. Danny nods, fighting the tightness in his chest that isn’t from any injury, but from those words, from the  _ effort  _ Jules is making to ensure that Danny  _ knows _ that this is up to him. That he has control here. 

 

It’s tiny, it’s something so small to everyone else, but its enormous to him. 

 

It’s  _ trust. _

 

Danny can’t breathe.

 

It’s too much and not enough and it’s all happening at the same time and he can’t process it. So he lets Jules whisper in his ear, lets Tom stay crouched protectively next to him. The medics show up, and he answers the questions that Jules can’t, and does his best not to flinch when they touch him, which doesn’t work at all. He gets on the gurney willingly and carefully, and lets Jules glare at the two medics when they put their hands on Danny to help him and he jerks away so fast he almost falls. 

 

Tom leaves to go do his thing, and Jules gets in the back with him, the doors shut before they even leave the stadium tunnel (the one that leads to the road and is specifically made to let ambulances drive straight into the building to get closer to any injured player).

 

It’s only when they’re almost to the hospital, and Danny is slowly falling asleep with an IV in his arm and an oxygen mask on his face, does he realize two things.

 

One: he has  _ no idea _ what happened to his dad. Two: Jules has been holding his hand this entire time, and he looks worried, despite the EMT telling both of them that Danny is doing fine (ish). 

 

He decides to ignore the unease at the first thought and focuses on the second, just barely holding back the dopey smile from crossing his face. 

 

Jules is worried about him. And he looks way too cute while doing it.

 

And why, exactly, is  _ that  _ all he can focus on right now?

 

He thinks maybe it’s because of how overwhelmed he is - he’s scared and whole and broken and worried and anxious and greatful and a million other things that would be hard enough to deal with on their own - and his brain is just clinging to the safest thing it can. 

 

And the safest thing for him is Jules. It’s  _ always  _ been Jules. Even when he didn’t think it was, even when he didn’t want it to be, Jules has always been safe. He’s always meant safety. 

 

But Danny knows the safest thing for Jules isn’t him. In fact, he’s probably the most dangerous thing for him, because Danny- Danny  _ needs _ Jules, needs him like he needs oxygen, and Dola can’t stand the thought of Jules leaving him, can’t stand what might happen if he said something and Jules decided that he couldn’t be friends with someone like that. 

 

He needs Jules. But he’s so fucked up right now - he’s been fucked up for a while, and maybe Jules knows that a little, but he doesn’t  _ know _ \- doesn’t know all the shit that Danny used to do, that Danny still  _ does _ . 

 

Danny would rather live the rest of his life as only Jules friend than with him hating him for what he feels, and so while he’ll take the little moments to just  _ pretend  _ that they were real, and he’ll make himself feel content with Jules company. He’ll smile when Jules finds a girl that isn’t such a screw up, who smiles at the right times and laughs real loud and doesn’t make Jules worry all the time. 

 

He’ll find someone who’s strong and beautiful and funny and loud and everything Danny isn’t, and that’ll be fine, because that’s safe for Jules. As long as Danny still gets to be there every once in a while, he’ll be okay with that, because Jules deserves to be happy. He deserves to be happy with someone who doesn’t have a dad that sneaks past security just to beat the shit out of him.

 

Danny would be his best man at his wedding, and he’d smile even if he feels miserable inside, because Jules has done so much for him, so he doesn’t get to complain about Jules being happy. He cares about him. 

 

He wants to be happy, and he wants Jules to be happy, and if Jules is happy then Danny’s happy, so really, it only matters if Jules is okay. Danny will take the little moments, and if there’s ever a day that he lives for himself, not for Jules, then maybe then he’ll tell him. 

 

Until then, he can just shut his eyes, and feel Jules warmth, and pray to whatever god is out there that this never ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thanks so much to everyone who's commented/left kudos, it means so much to me that you guys like this story :)


	9. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ,,,you may want some tissues? idk.

Danny feels like he’s walking in a haze. A cloudy, thought stopping, exhausted haze. He’s in the hospital for a while, and he has to change into those flimsy things they call gowns, but they don’t make him stay overnight. They do a bunch of stuff to him he’s sure, but he doesn’t really remember it. 

 

He floats around the whole time, tired and hurting and just wanting to be left alone, but the only way he can tell time is passing is by the appearing and disappearing of presences around him. Once Jules is taken away from him he gives up trying to understand what’s going on, and he just...exists for a while.

 

He leaves the hospital and ends up at their place, and Jules is helping him up the stairs while Danny’s snaps at him about everything and anything, and doesn’t realize that he did so until he’s in bed a half hour later. 

 

His whole body aches, and he can’t even think. His head is...thick almost. He’s spacey as all hell, like he’s awake, but he’s trapped in a day dream he can’t pull himself out of. Like zoning out, and then not being able to zone back in, but still having to function.

 

He gets to sleep some - that he knows, even though once Jules gets him in bed he just curls into a ball and blinks slowly for a good while - and he wakes up feeling like death. Once again he has no idea how much time has passed, but he can vaguely remember Jules shaking him awake once or twice and trying to get him to talk (something about his name?).

 

Either way, the room is dark, and his head feels exactly like he’d expect it to feel after having it bashed into a concrete wall. His hand feels hot and stiff, just like his jaw where the old man first hit him. The rest of his pain is in his chest and abdomen. It seems his dad never lost the habit of hitting him in places that he could cover. At least with a little make up he’ll be able to make an appearance at practice or whatever. 

 

Getting up sounds like hell, so he forgoes attempting the experience and just stays under the covers for a while, staring blankly at the shaded details of the room. It isn’t until he’s nearly asleep again does he realize he’s not alone.

 

Someone else is beside him, their breathing soft and even. Danny’s heard Jules sleep enough times to know the soft little murmurs belong to him.

 

He doesn’t know what to do. A large part of him is angry, at everything and anything, and Jules being here pisses him off. Logically, he knows it shouldn’t, but it does. He’s angry at him for staying, for caring, for making him feel like he was worth something. Because if he didn’t think he was worth anything - if this was a year ago, and his dad came and did this, then it wouldn’t have hurt really, because he would’ve been used to it. 

 

Isn’t that what used to tell himself? He’s was used to it then, so he could take it. But now Jules’ got it in his head that he shouldn’t have to be used to it, so then its Jules’ fault that he hurts so bad right now.

 

Right?

 

_ ‘Wrong’ _ a little voice in his head whispers. Jules is the only reason he’s felt happy, and Danny isn’t angry at him for showing him how to live again. He’s angry at...everything. He hates that he’s this fucked up and he hates that he was doing good and his dad came back and he hates how much all this hurts and he  _ hates it _ , hates how his whole life has been one giant shitshow, with him as the star fuck-up.

 

He just wants it all to stop. He wants to be  _ okay, _ wants to look at himself and not hate what he sees, he wants to feel like he’s floating on top of the water instead of drowning a thousand feet under the surface. 

 

He’s so tired.

 

So tired. 

 

He closes his eyes and forces himself to sleep.

 

...

 

An alarm goes off, loud and angry and it jerks Danny right to the surface of reality once more, only this time its with a pounding headache and a dry throat and wet cheeks.

 

He was crying in his sleep, he realizes with a start, but before he do much more than blink in shock, there’s a the sound of a lamp being flicked on, and then there’s a hand on his shoulder, shaking gently.

 

“Dola?” Edelman’s voice is rough and quiet, like it always is when he’s tired. “Danny wake up.”

 

“M up.” Danny mumbles, quickly raises a hand to wipe at his face, hoping Jules doesn’t notice. “Time is it?” There’s a quick start from the other man, but a soft shuffling comes from behind him. Danny’s still on his side facing away from the other man, and he doesn’t plan on moving.

 

“Four.” Jules says back. 

 

“N the mornin?” Danny asks, a little more than surprised. “Why’re you...should go home Jules.” He mumbles, suddenly exhausted. His heads all over the place and he just wants to go back to sleep.

 

“I am home bubs.” Jules says after a pause. “What’s your name?” He asks, and Danny is so close to falling asleep that he doesn’t even question the weirdness of it, he just answers. There’s nothing left in him to care about Jules still being here. 

 

“Danny.” He murmurs, shifting a little and letting his wrist hang a bit over the edge of the bed.

 

“Last name?”

 

“Amen...dola...” He interrupts himself with a yawn. 

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Bed.” He whispers. 

 

“ _ Where _ Danny.”

 

God why can’t he just sleep...

 

“House.” He tries to snap, but it only comes out a little louder than before. “Yours...ours?” He doesn’t really know actually, and that’s really weird, but then he’s barely sure his brain is still in his skull so then again what does he care??

 

“Ours.” Jules confirms, and there’s the sound of relief in his voice, even if it’s slight. “What’s my name?”

 

_ ‘Fuck face that won’t let me sleep and pushes me to be better when I least want it’ _ Danny thinks, half attempting to be angry again.

 

“Dola?” Worried tone is back.

 

“Hmm?” He hums, teetering on the edge of passing out.

 

“Danny,  _ what’s my name? _ ” Jules voice is firm, with an edge to it that’s a mix of fear and concern.

 

“Jules.” He hisses out. “Shut the fuck up and let me sleep.”

 

He sighs. 

 

“Okay bubs.” 

 

The lamp clicks again, the room and Danny’s mind plunging into calm darkness.

 

....

 

The whole exchange happens again, and then again, and again, and each time Danny wakes up feeling a little better and little less tired but just as cranky and ready to snap at Jules the second he gets the chance.

 

When he finally wakes up, it’s like two in the afternoon, and he stumbles into the bathroom to pee and search for painkillers. He’s slurping water from the sink just to quench his thirst while attempting to twist open the cap of extra strength Tylenol, which a whole task because his hand is bruised and swollen and his chest hurts a lot and bending over the sink isn’t something one really thinks about as strenuous until their torso is purple and yellow with bruise.

 

He twists the wrong way and inhales sharply at the pain, sucking in water and sputtering it all over the mirror. The bottle slips from his hands, and he coughs, and  _ ow _ , owowow, let’s not do that again-

 

“Here.” A soft voice accompanies a hand stuck out in front of him, two pills sitting in the palm. Danny is so past pleasantries at this point he just snatches them and swallows them with another gulp of water. Only once he’s straightened up and can stand without holding the sink, does he nod carefully in thanks. 

 

“Are you- do you wanna talk?” Danny doesn’t look at Jules, instead just walks out of the bathroom with a light shrug. He doesn’t head towards the door, instead b-lining to the bed and carefully situating himself under the blankets again.

 

“Danny...” Jules sighs.

 

“What.” Danny rasps. “I’m not trying those stairs until these pain meds do their damn job, and I’m still fucking tired.” 

 

It’s something at least, that his matter of fact tone brings out a light laugh from Jules, even if its strained.

 

“Well...fuck. Move over.” Jules mumbles, and Danny does no such thing, meaning Julian has to wedge himself next to Danny and even then he’s half off the bed. 

 

“You suck.” Jules mumbles. Danny huffs, the closest thing he’ll get to a laugh for a while.

 

“How bad?” He asks after a quiet moment. Julian takes a second, but eventually answers.

 

“Nothing's broken, just a lot of bruises, no internal injuries, but you are concussed.” Danny nods. Good. He can work with that.

 

“The press?” 

 

“PR released the updated list of players, and when they were questioned about you they said it was some stupid accident involving some concrete stairs and a slippery tread.”

 

“Does...does that mean that...” He feels Jules shrug.

 

“I think Tom worked magic with his guy and the PR team actually believes that the statement they gave the press is true. He said no one knows but him and Gronk.”

 

Wait, what?

 

“Rob knows?” Danny asks, so confused now. “I don’t...I don’t remember…”

 

“Well he...I guess he forgot something and came back to get it and heard yelling and ran into us and then we went and found you and...um...we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to...” Jules trails off, clearly feeling how tense Danny becomes the more he talks.

 

It’s okay, he thinks. This is okay. Tom hide it even from PR, and Rob is one of his best friends. He can keep this secret. He can. Tom wouldn’t tell a soul, and neither would Gronk. It’s okay. He can deal with this.

 

“It’s okay.” Danny chokes out, then winces. 

 

“Danny...”

 

“No, it’s okay. I have to...I have to know. It’s not going to go away so I just...my dad is he...like what happened with...I mean I think it would’ve blown up if he was arrested right? So what happened to him?” Danny rambles, forcing himself to keep his breathing slow and even.

 

Because it happened. He wish it didn’t, because he was doing so good and now he’s not, but he can’t make it go away just by closing his eyes and wishing. 

 

This time it’s Jules that tenses up.

 

“Before or after I broke my knuckles on his face?”

 

Danny freezes.

 

“God please tell me you didn’t...” He breathes out, fear rippling through him. He keeps his eyes glued to the ceiling, and starts counting silently in his head, something he’s learned to do to calm down whenever he feels on the edge of panicking.

 

“I came around a corner to see him choking you until you were unconscious, you’re damn right I did.”

 

“Jules he-”

 

“If you’re about to give me shit about protecting my best friend, you can save it.” He snaps and Danny can’t hide the small flinch at his angry tone. “I don’t care what he might  _ try  _ to do to me, I’d do it again in a heartbeat and I wish to every fuckin higher power that I had gotten there sooner.” Jules says, softer this time.

 

Danny has nothing to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything at all. He just stares resolutely at the ceiling and counts in his head until he isn’t about to cry and his chest doesn’t feel so tight.

 

It happened. It  _ happened _ , and this is the aftermath. He doesn’t want to accept it- that darkness inside is a writhing monster of nasty words and pain, and it doesn’t want him to be trying, doesn’t want him to be thinking logically - it doesn’t want him to face this. But he has to, even if it’s going to be one of the hardest things he’s ever done. 

 

Jules has stayed, silent but close, so incredibly aware that Danny needed him to stop talking for a while.

 

“So- we- you don’t know...” Danny's stammers out, and feels his chest tightening again. 

 

“Gronk just said that he handed him off to some security guys. I don’t think he ever actually made it to a jail cell, because Rob didn’t tell them what he did, just that he needed to leave.”

 

“He’s out there.” Dola finishes, still staring at the ceiling. He’s almost relieved, because it means that this isn’t as out of hand as it could have been, and that his dad will probably just go home like he normally does, and it’ll be fine.

 

Or, he’ll stick around to deal some revenge on Jules. Danny doesn’t know really, because no one’s ever stopped him before. Would he go after him? After Tommy and Rob too?

 

“Danny?”

 

“He’s out there Jules.” He repeats, and tries to figure out what he should be doing now. The bed shifts, and now Jules is on his side, staring at him. 

 

“Hey.” He says softly, and Danny finally looks at him. Jules is sincere, but there’s not a single ounce of pity or contempt or anger. He’s grateful. “We’ll deal with it. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out okay? I’ve got your back - Tom and Rob too.” The last part comes out rushed, like an afterthought, but he doesn’t call him on it. He’s too busy being caught up in all the emotion, the  _ exhaustion _ . It’s too much, and suddenly Danny’s got the urge to just start all out bawling.

 

“I need something to drink.” He mumbles, and rolls off the bed, stumbling a few feet to the doorway then getting steadier as he makes his way to the kitchen. Jules follows him, because of course he does, but he doesn’t say anything to Danny. And Danny sort of hates that. He hates that Julian of all people, has gotten so good at reading Danny. He  _ hates _ that Jules is this close to him, but he loves it too.

 

He loves Jules, and its his own damn fault. He knew the second he met Jules it could happen, and he stuck around, he let Jules be his friend, and everything just fell into place. He knew Jules would get caught up in his mess of a life, but Tom and Rob too? He can’t protect them - fuck, he never could. He can’t even protect himself.

 

In the kitchen, the cabinet that holds the glasses is to high for him to reach without a massive amount of pain in his chest and abdomen. Jules is quiet as he gets it for him, and fills it with water. He stands while Danny sits at one of the tall stools that are seating for the granite top kitchen island. 

 

It’s quiet and Danny’s heart hurts.

 

“Tell me what happened?” He asks softly, and Jules looks at him for a long moment before starting in on events, going minute by minute, slow and detailed, like he’s breaking down a play. Danny isn’t really paying attention - he’s doing math in his head, adding up events and comparing it to what he knows about his family. 

 

His dad hasn’t really gone off on him like that in a while. Not since he was a kid at least, and he was drunk then too. So it's possible that he doesn’t remember it, but Danny isn’t placing any bets on that idea. As it is, he thought that the Patriots were safe. He has no idea how his dad got that deep into the tunnels - it was a game, for christ sakes, there should have been security and fans still at the entrances - but then again he did intentionally wait until everything had died down, and most people had left. 

 

Still. He knows Jules now. His dad has never  _ once _ let him get away with talking back, with any sort of attitude. He would wait, and then serve Danny his punishment at the most opportune time. 

 

Danny would expect him to do the same here, if there wasn’t the threat of getting arrested. Still. Jules is no longer safe. Their security team wouldn’t even know about it either, since PR doesn’t think anything happened, then management wouldn’t have the knowledge needed to inform them that Jules would be in danger. 

 

Danny can handle it if his dad comes after him. That’s the most plausible scenario here - to go after the familiar target, into comfortable territory - punishment served for fighting back. He can take that, and he  _ will  _ take that, if it appeases his old man.

 

It doesn’t change the fact that Jules is in danger. And he’s in danger because of Danny. Because Danny was too selfish to let Julian go.

 

Maybe nothing happens this time. Maybe nothing happens and it all goes away - but maybe it doesn’t. And even if it all goes quiet, and his dad got the hint and went home, well, that’s only  _ this time. _

 

His dad isn’t going away anytime soon, and neither is any of Danny’s problems, and he...he can’t let that hurt Jules. He’s already done enough.

 

“I think you should leave.” Danny mutters quietly.

 

“And so I- what?” Jules’ story comes to a grinding halt. Danny doesn’t look up - he can’t - but he can imagine the look on Julians face. 

 

“I- I need you to leave.” He repeats, hoping that Jules will listen to him, and then hating himself for know that he  _ will _ , because he’s been trying so hard to listen to Danny ever since Danny told him about his dad. He feels like he’s using him, useing Jules kindness against him. But he’s not lying at least. He needs Julian to go. Needs him to walk out the door and never come back and forget he ever knew him.

 

He needs Julian to be safe. And safe isn’t next to him. He hates how fucked up this has all gotten (he’s just a football player, come  _ on _ ) but if this has taught him anything, its that he is, at his core, nothing but darkness. Nothing but pain and hurt. 

 

Danny can’t see that touch Jules. He can’t. He won’t.

 

“Danny what-”

 

“Leave!” He snaps over Jules confusion. He’s slow getting up from the stool and stepping back, gaze still on the floor. “I want you to go.” 

 

“Dola, what the fuck?!”  _ Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look- _

 

“Just- just get the fuck out! Okay, I- I want you to go. Please go. Please.”

 

There’s a pause. That’s bad. That means Jule’s actually feeling something other than anger. 

 

“Danny, did he-” There’s quick steps that accompany the angry tone, and Danny can’t help it, he just-

 

-just flinches, jerking back and raising his shoulder to protect the pressure points and turning away so his side faces Julian. It’s smooth but jerky, an instinctual movement brought on to protect as much of himself as fast as he can.

 

Shame and embarrassment rushes through him, making his face flush and blood rush in his ears. 

 

“Dola-” It’s soft and careful and almost broken and Danny  _ cannot hear this right now. _

 

“Just go! Get out, get out of here Julian! Leave me alone!” His voice rises as he goes on, and he’s just about screaming by the time he’s done.

 

He doesn’t see it, but he hears the feet shuffling backwards, almost panicked.

 

The door slams, and Danny starts sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the chapters are finished at this point :), so theres that. I'm sorry this is so late, I literally forgot about it, because I came back from vacation then went on a thing and then WORK IS A THING THAT EXISTS and ugh okay thanks to hockey_3720 because your review reminded me of this thing and yeah Im just bad (but i made this extra long to make up the fact its been OVER A WEEK) 
> 
> Also strong recommendation to listen to Johnny Cash's cover of Hurt, it works so well with the end of this chapter just ugh


	10. The War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a full week this time!! Woo!
> 
> Also,,,it doesn't get better in this chapter. eheh. Author is not sorry.

Danny doesn’t go to practice the next day. He doesn’t even try to move, past dragging himself still sobbing to _his_ bedroom, the one on the first floor, the one he hasn’t slept in since before the game. His phone is who knows where, but probably up in Jules bedroom (on Jules nightstand, next to the bed Jules sleeps in, the one _Danny_ slept in, while Jules was next to him).

 

He knows it’s probably got a few texts on it, maybe from Tom, or a few of his other teammates who might’ve heard about why he’s out. Or heard the PR version, not the real reason. Concussions suck, but this one honestly doesn’t feel that bad.

 

Or it wouldn’t, if he hadn’t cried his eyes out for two hours the night before, and ratched the dull headache up to full blown _I can’t move and breathing hurts_ type of migraine.

 

So even if he was mentally inclined to get off his ass and go get his phone to reassure Tom and Rob that he isn’t dead, he doesn’t think his body is going to let him for a while.

 

It takes hours - he sleeps until ten, then lies in bed with tears streaming down his face while he keeps a pillow over his head just for the extra barrier against light - but eventually the migraine moves back to a headache, and he takes another two hours just working up the mental energy to get up from bed.

 

It’s there, sitting at the edge of his bed and clutching the sheets in his hands while breathing through the dizziness and aching of muscles, that he realizes he hasn’t heard Jules all day. Which means he hasn’t come home.

 

 _Good._ Danny thinks. _He’s getting the message._ If Jules doesn’t come home tonight, then he’s clearly emotional enough to back off from Danny, and hopefully just...leave him be. Danny will start looking for apartments, and can just text Jules the soonest he can move out. Team stuff might be a little awkward at first, but Danny can be civil, and he knows Jules can too. They don’t have to avoid each other, but they don’t really have to talk to each other either.

 

It’s for the best. Jules will be safe. He’ll get over Danny fast, spend more time with Tom and Rob and everyone, and it’ll be like Danny was never there. Jules’ll be happy without him.

 

And Danny will...Danny will deal with that. He’d rather Jules hate him and be safe and happy and fearless, than get hurt because he was close to Danny - because Danny _let him stay._

 

No, he won’t have that. Jules will get over him. It’ll be okay. He’ll just...he’ll go back to the way he was before and…

 

...and he’ll hate it. But that’s what he gets for thinking he could be happy, for thinking he could just climb out of his little black hole and not bring any of the darkness with him (he doesn’t want to go back - not to constant dark days, not to being _alone_ \- but he doesn’t have a choice. Jules has to stay safe.)

 

Jules doesn’t come home that night. He doesn’t come home at any point that _week_ , and by the time they have a game again, his head is much better, and the bruises on his chest and torso have moved from disgusting yellow and black to mottled purples and blues. It still hurts to do basically everything, but at least he can visually see that he’s healing, and is told that it won’t affect his time with the Pats in anyway shape or form (although he gets a few chirps over text from his teammates to watch out for puddles next time).

 

He doesn’t go to practice at any point that week, and he can’t going to the game, because its an away game and concussions plus planes do not mix that well. The Pats are on the road for a few days, but for the life of him he can’t remember where, he just knows that they come back on Tuesday and it’s a Saturday, almost a full week from when his dad made a reappearance.

 

Almost a full week since he was reminded exactly what he is.

 

The good news is that Tom had texted him at a point (after all the _pick up the phone you asshole I need to know you aren’t dead)_ and told him that Jules was okay, and he was staying with Brady at his place at Foxborough.

 

The bad news is that Jules actually texts him at some point. He doesn’t know what he says - he refused to look at the messages, doesn't want to read them, can’t see the words that are going to be there - he knows its his fault, and he just wants Jules to stop trying. Move on. Try to realize that Danny isn’t good for him, and that he can do so much better.

 

The problem maybe, is that everything Julian has in his life has come from being stubborn. Never giving up was what got him his dream. So Danny knows that if he wants Jules to stop trying, he’s going to have to make it look like its what Danny wants.

 

(And it is what he wants.)

 

He doesn’t watch the game. He tells himself its because the screen will aggravate his head, but he knows he’s been able to look at his phone just fine, and he hasn’t had a headache for a few days. (He knows it’s because he doesn’t want to see Jules play, doesn’t want to see how good the team is without him, doesn’t want to see how they don’t need him to pull out a win).

 

He’s not good. He knows it. He knows he’s slipping, knows that he’s stopped _fighting,_ but he doesn’t want to anymore. Fighting got him a torso of bruises. Fighting got him kicked from the one thing he was okay at.

 

Fighting got him love that he can never have.

 

Sunday, the Patriots play and win.

 

Monday, Danny doesn’t leave his bed.

 

He doesn’t eat, doesn’t drink anything, only manages to drag himself to the bathroom once. It’s like lying under a dark blanket, one that’s just...heavy. To heavy for him to lift. He knows that if he tries to get out from under it, it gets heavier, but then it gets lighter the more he pushes, and he _knows_ what he’s doing isn’t good.

 

He misses Jules. Misses the days from before - misses being able to get up, and to smile, and to only have a few bad days, maybe every few months. He misses Julian being there, misses his smile and his laugh and the cute way he mumbles in his sleep and _god_ , he’s screwed up _so bad._ He let himself feel this way, he let it happen, when he knew that he’d get sent so far back if he ever lost it.

 

It’s his own fault that this hurts so bad. He just wants to _stop_. It’s so exhausting, the way that he can never seem to get ahead and stay there, and fighting for it has just gotten himself and other hurt, and...and he’s just...he doesn’t want to die, he knows that, but he hates that his brain just sees that as the only way to get away from the pain.

 

He falls asleep Monday night, and intentionally does not go into his bathroom where he knows his razor is.

 

......

 

On Tuesday, he walks into the kitchen, opens his laptop, and finds an apartment in less than a half hour. Unplugging his phone, he numbly scrolls right past the million messages from Jules, not reading a single one. Instead he types out that he’ll be gone by Friday, and he’s sorry for the short notice.

 

He gets a text from Tom five minutes later.

 

_Tommy: I’m coming over_

 

_Tommy: put on pants._

 

Danny blinks, then looks down at the pair of sweatpants he got on.

 

_Danny: Uh...okay?_

 

_Danny: I’m fine you know._

 

_Danny: I’m not going out to one of your crazy workouts either._

 

He adds it as an afterthought, and then-

 

_Tommy: You’re not fine and we both know it. Also, unlike a certain receiver, I’m aware that some of us actually understand the concept of R &R _

 

Danny snorts but doesn’t bother responding to that. Tom wouldn’t know R&R if it hit him in the face (also Tom apparently thinks he walks around the apartment naked or something, which, _what-_ ). Amendola may be a mentally fucked mess of a human, but he can at least put on pants when he leaves his room.

 

He just won’t mention exactly how much it cost him to do so. It takes so much sometimes, to do things that everyone else manages to do so easily. Getting out of bed was...well it took four hours and the need of water. He was stuck in a sort of endless loop of not wanting to die, but also not wanting to get out of bed to take care of his body so that he can live his life.

 

Long story short: Tom fucking Brady is coming over, and Danny is out of spoons.

 

He read about that, some forever ago (back when he had it all, back when Jules was there and Danny was okay, and they were doing it all _together)_ . Jules had sent him a [ link ](https://butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/), and asked if it made sense. To be honest, Danny didn’t find any comfort in it, but he did love the idea. There was like...an allotted amount of spoons per day, for a person with a chronic mental or physical illness. And so somethings (things maybe like getting out of bed) too a lot of spoons, while somethings only took one or two (like texting Tom). The point was, there was only an allotted amount of spoons each day, and so each task that you did cost a spoon. So sometimes you had to borrow spoons from the next day, and other times you had spoons left over to do things. But the whole idea was to show how people with chronic illness had to think about and go around their daily schedule, versus people who didn’t struggle with such things, in which case they had an endless amount of spoons.

 

Danny started with a tiny amount of spoons. Between getting out of bed, brushing his teeth, drinking water, putting on clothes, searching for an apartment _and_ texting Jules, he’s got a negative balance.

 

And Toms coming over.  The only brightside is that he doesn’t have the energy or motivation to run, and he’s sure he shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a car right now, for a shit ton of reasons. Besides, getting Tom even more worried about him won’t stop the impending screaming rant that he’s sure he’s going to get.

 

He leaves the door unlocked, and texts Tom the same information, and then flops on the couch. He doesn’t move when Brady comes in, all protective older brother and angry words. He doesn’t even say a thing, not until Tom calms down a bit and Danny can maybe get in a few words. He doesn’t want to talk, he just wants to go back to bed and stop existing for a while, but this is Tom, and Tom isn’t really focused on anything except that fact that Jules is probably hurting and its Danny’s fault.

 

“I don’t expect you to open up to us all of a sudden, but damn it Danny, Jules has been trying so hard, I think he deserves _better_ than one text as you leave - jesus you’ve lived together for a fucking year and half, you’re his _best friend_ Dola-”

 

“Of course he deserves better.” Danny mumbles under his breath, and Tom stops mid rant. It’s later - mid afternoon maybe. He doesn’t know. His head hurts and he needs to put more ice on his hand and take some ibuprofen, but Tom’s still here, still angry. Still demanding answers that Danny doesn’t have.

 

“What?” The quarterback says, voice dangerously low.

 

“I said of course he deserves better.” Danny snaps. He isn’t afraid of Tom. Not after everything he’s seen, done, _felt_ . “Why do you think I’m moving out? I’m not good for him - not for him, or you, or _anybody_ .” He hisses, thoroughly fed up. “I really don’t need _you_ to remind me of that.” He stands slowly, breathing slowly through the tightness in his ribs and brushing by a very surprised looking Tom to go to the kitchen.

 

Brady follows, albeit slowly enough that Danny has time to slowly fill a glass of water. He fumbles with the bottle of medication until Tom takes it from him silently, and slides two over. They both wait until Danny’s downed the anti-inflammatory, and then he’s left staring at the floor, wishing everything could just _stop_.

 

“That’s not true you know.” Tom says eventually. Danny just shakes his head, resigned and sad. He’s losing it, losing Jules, going to lose the team, but it...it keeps them safe. They’ll be better without him, even if he’s not better without _them_.

 

“It is true. It’s fine, I’ll deal with it-”

 

“Woah, wait- hold on do you-” Tom starts and stops and then opens his mouth like he’s going to start again before huffing and going silent. “Are you doing this because you _want_ to? Or because you think it’s going to keep Jules _safe_.”

 

Danny doesn’t answer, just keeps staring at the floor. He tilts his head away from Tom, squeezing his eyes shut to try and force away the tears.

 

He wants Jules - he wants him _so much_ \- but he can’t poison him with his past. Not when it’s a perfect reflection of his future.

 

He never speaks, but Tommy gets the answer loud and clear. There's a soft sigh and then-

 

“Danny thats...you know he doesn’t think that right? _We_ don't think that. There’s nothing wrong with you-”

 

“I’m dangerous Tom-” He doesn’t understand it, why can’t they all just _understand_ , why can’t they _see_ Danny for what he is. It would be so much easier if they could just leave him alone, just let him, just stop _pushing_ , _please-_

 

“Jules can protect himself!” Tom interrupts, angry and protective and oh _no_ , buddy, you don’t get to play that card-

 

“ _He shouldn’t fucking have to!”_ Danny roars back, and it shuts Brady up really, really fast. They’re both breathing hard, and Danny’s eyes widen as he realizes what he did.

 

Tom blinks at him, and opens his mouth and-

 

“No.” Danny cuts him off. “No you- you need to go. Now.”

 

He gets stares out for a second longer, and there's so much of...something on Tom's face, but he still takes his keys from the counter and walks out, the door shutting loudly behind him.

 

Danny doesn’t move until he stops hearing the exhaust from Toms car. Then he very calmly walks to his bedroom and shuts the door, locking it and turning on the lamp.

 

He gets ready for a shower on autopilot, moving things numbly, doing things without actually remembering doing them. It isn’t until he’s naked under the stream of water that he starts crying.

 

It feels like he’s mourning, as he presses a hand to his mouth and sobs, hot tears mixing with the warm water. He slides to the floor, curling into a ball and wailing out his pain, screaming until he’s hoarse and soundless.

 

He thinks...well he is mourning. It’s not like Jules is dead, but what they had is. Or it’s going to be, soon. He’s doing his best to kill it, and it feels like he’s killing himself instead.

 

Danny wanted it all. He wanted to have Jules by his side forever, to stand together with the same jerseys on and win a superbowl, and then do it again and again, until Danny gave Jules a ring that he wore everyday, not once a year.

 

He wanted quiet nights after losses, with small kisses and soft touches and Remember the Titans being watched too many times to count, and he wanted loud nights at bar after wins, with bright smiles and Jules pulling him apart and putting him back together when the got home. He wanted crabby Jules in the morning and he wanted to make him coffee while he sips tea and he wanted to watch a sunset with him and he wanted to stand next to him in the locker room and say _I love you_ before every game.

 

He just- he wanted. He still wants. But now he sees that he never _can_. Jules doesn’t love him, Jules loves girls and he loves football and if he has any love for Danny, its as a brother, and that’s almost just as bad as not being loved at all.

 

It was never going to happen. And now Danny can’t even call Jules his friend, because Jules being his friend is so dangerous.

 

It’s dangerous, to put that much darkness next to so much light.

 

Jules will be happy. He doesn’t need Danny. No one does. With what his dad could do, with the amount of shit Danny brings, there isn’t a soul on this earth that needs that in their lives, least of all Julian Edelman, who has so much _good_ in him that it extends to the people he’s around.

 

Danny would only hurt him more. Only make his life worse as he stuck around out some stupid selfish need to feel human.

 

He just needs Jules to see that. Needs him to understand that Danny is bad news, and needs to be left behind. He loves him, and he needs...he needs to know that Jules is going to be okay.

 

It hurts the most then, to fully realize that in order for that to happen, Danny can not be apart of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (author is very sorry and loves you all)


	11. Save Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STRAP IN FOLKS, SHITS ABOUT TO GO DOWN

Jules does not get the message. Danny had it figured out, but Jules, clearly did not.

 

Not even close.

 

It’s why Danny’s standing the open dining room, pressed against the edge of the table, hands gripping the edge of it because if he doesn’t hold onto something he might just slide to the ground.

 

Also Jules is standing in front of his door staring at him and there’s a lot things he had planned on doing today but confronting his soon to ex-best friend was not one of them.

 

Danny knows he looks like a mess. He feels like one, at least. He hasn’t really shaved since it happened, even though he’s clean from the two hour shower sob fest he had last night. The last time he looked in a mirror was probably when he was a kid, but he can picture it at least - the dark circles under his eyes to match the exhaustion that settles in his bones, the paleness of his skin to show his aversion to leaving his bedroom - all of it and more, mixing to create the real version of himself.

 

The image he’d worked so hard to keep from Jules. 

 

He didn’t even knock. Danny was just dragging himself up from the dining room table, struggling to work up the energy to not just take a nap right there on the hardwood, when there was a jingle of keys. The door swung open right as Danny stood in a panic. He didn’t know where he was planning on going, but it would’ve been anywhere but the open concept dining room/living room/kitchen thing they had that worked great for entertaining but not so good for hiding from anyone coming in the door.

 

They’ve been staring at each other for a good minute or so now, and Dannys is sure he’s about to pass out or wake up, when Jules moves, slow and hesitant, eyes leaving Danny’s figure to gently set his keys on the small side table next to the door, like he always does, because if he doesn’t put them there then he’ll loose them.

 

“Are you okay?” Jules says quietly, voice low and steady.

 

God he’s missed that voice. The soft baritones are like an ice pack to his bruised and broken soul, cool and soothing, calming with the relief of pain.

 

But then to understand Jules, you can’t count on his words. You have to watch his gestures, and it makes something in Danny’s chest crack, because Jules is still looking at his hand over his keys, and he knows that Jules can’t even look at him.

 

“Everything’s healing.” He responds, and surprises himself with how even his voice is. How  _ strong _ it is. Then again, this conversation is probably going to determine if Jules leaves or not, so he needs to be...assertive. 

 

Jules looks at the couch, then dips his eyes to the floor. “That’s not what I asked.” 

 

_ Too bad _ is one the tip of his tongue, but “It’s what I answered.” is what comes out instead, which Danny supposes is equally pissy. 

 

It is still Jules apartment though, so Danny steps forward, ready to stride to his bedroom and get out of whatever this is.

 

“I told you I’d gone on friday.” He says, and that gets Jules eyes to him, get him to raise his head and stare, and Danny stops a few feet away from the table he has just pushed off of. He sort of regrets it, because now he’s stuck without support in the middle of the apartment with no real way to escape without blatantly running to his room or checking Jules out of the way of the door.

 

“I don’t want you to leave Danny.”

 

“Wha- Why?!” He says, and almost winces at how much attitude is there in his voice. It’s just - he’s frustrated, he’s so, so frustrated, because if Jules just  _ stopped _ then he could go back to getting on with the beginning of the end of his life. 

 

But Jules never stops, and he certainly will never stop trying. Danny doesn’t know how he could fool himself into thinking otherwise.

 

Jules actually looks angry.

 

“What do you mean _ ‘why’  _ ? Because you’re leaving for the wrong reasons Dola and-”

 

“Oh  _ shit _ , I’m  _ so sorry,  _ I forgot I have to have every decision in my life Edelman approved before I can follow through with them!” Danny snaps back, because  _ fuck  _ him if Jules thinks that Danny is going to just let that slide. He’s angry now too, because this is  _ bullshit,  _ he isn’t in the Rams anymore, he can do what he wants, when he wants. 

 

No one controls him. Not anymore (not since he went against the one person in his life that always  _ could) _ , and the realization almost knocks him off his feet. 

 

He doesn’t want to be controlled by anyone. Ever again.  

 

Danny loses the ability to breath, even if only for a second. It’s enough to derail his argument (this sudden thing, the way it changes everything from how he feels to how he’s looking at his future), and Jules takes the opening.

 

“You aren’t  _ listening _ .” He hisses. “You’re leaving because you think it’s best for me or some shit, not because you really want to.”

 

“You don’t know that.” Danny starts, but then-

 

“I  _ do  _ know that.” Julian snaps back. “You think Tom didn’t tell me how much of an idiot you’re being? Even if he barely knows that half of it,  _I_ __ know you, and I know how fucking self-less you are, and I know that you think that  _ this _ is somehow better for me than standing next to you!”

 

“I can’t keep you save if you’re near me!”

 

“I don’t care Danny-”

 

“You should!”

 

_ “I don’t!”  _ Julian roars, and Danny actually takes a few steps back, his heart racing. Maybe he doesn’t want to be controlled anymore - maybe having the realization the he was  _ being controlled _ in the first place is big enough - but that doesn’t mean his instincts suddenly disappear. He knows Jules would never hurt him, he does, but his brain maybe doesn’t, and it picks up on anger in Jules voice and Danny feels his muscles tense, his eyes darting around to find the nearest blunt object to protect himself.

 

Jules must notice, or maybe he just feels bad, but either way he deflates a little.

 

“Danny, you have to- you have to understand that, okay? I don’t care. I know you think that I should, and I know you don’t mean it as a insult either, but  _ one _ , I can take care of myself, and  _ two _ , if you think that I’m that much of a dick that I would just  _ run _ the second things got even  _ remotely  _ dangerous, then you don’t know me at all.”

 

His eyes burn, because that hurts. It’s low, but its true. He is implying that, by thinking that Jules will just let Danny leave without a word in protest. It’s not true of course, but sometimes Danny wishes Jules weren’t such a good person. 

 

Then again, he wouldn’t love Jules is he was anything but himself, so maybe he doesn’t wish it, so much as hope that this isn’t all a mistake (he also hopes that the feeling in his chest is apprehension, not love, but he knows better, and he knows where this argument is going to go if he’s not careful). 

 

“Jules, I...I can’t.” He whispers, and this time its Danny who drops his head, throat tight. “You don’t know- 

  
  


“I’m trying to tell you Danny-”

 

“What that you suddenly  _ understand  _ my life-” Dannys goes back to snapping, suddenly panicking at how fast the tables are turning, how quickly his resolve is fading now that Jules is here in front of him. It pains him in the way a sore bruise does, to realize that he’s  _ wanted   _ Jules to say all these things, he’s wanted Jules to come back and tell him he isn’t leaving. 

 

He’s wanted it, but he just assumed, he accepted, that it was never going to happen.

 

“No of course not- why are you being like this?!”

 

“Because you’re not- you can’t just come in here and say these things, you don’t know how much they  _ hurt- _ ”

 

“I’m not trying to hurt you Danny-”

 

“Then why the fuck are you here?!” Their voiced have gotten progressively louder, and the pace of his breathing has risen with the volume. He’s lost, confused and floundering around the sea of emotions that’s churning around inside of him, and he’s lashing out just to try and make Jules the same way.

 

_ ‘Do you feel this?’  _ He wants to scream _. ‘Do you feel how hard this is? This is what it’s like for me, every second that I’m with you.’ _

 

_ ‘And I love it.’ _

 

“Would you  _ just listen _ ?!” Jules yells back and Danny almost gives a childish  _ no _ in response.

 

“Why, so you can tell me I don’t know what I need again? So you can tell me how much I  _ insult  _ you with my stupid feelings? I’m just  _ trying to protect you Jules _ -”

 

“You’re protecting  _ yourself!”  _ Danny flinches back, hitting his back on the table, and he’s so close to just breaking down and crying his eyes out, because it’s too much, its  _ too much _ , but it’s not enough at the same time. It’s Julian, and it’s Danny, and it’s everything unsaid finally being let out.   
  


“What do you want?!” Danny screams at him, sobbing and a step away from hysterics.

 

“You!” Jules yells back, and Danny feels the blood drain from his face. Jules pulls back a little, breathing heavy. He raises a hand towards Danny then lets it drop. “I want- I want you.” He finishes, and he sounds wrecked and worn out and so, so  _ scared _ . 

 

So it’s definitely pretty horrible of Danny when he asks  _ why _ .

 

“What?” Jules chokes out, confusion evident on his face.

 

“Why do you- why  _ me _ ?” Danny says, and hell if this isn’t tearing him up inside. A voice is screaming at him to stop talking, because maybe Jules really means it, and this could be what Danny has wanted since day one. But the rest of Danny, the larger, more damaged part, needs to know what Jules is saying, and why he’s saying it. “Why do you want this with  _ me _ . I just- I’m such a fuck up Jules, and I have a shitty family and I’m fucked in the head and some days I can’t even get out of bed in the morning why would you want someone like me when you could have someone so much better?!” 

 

He expects Jules to start yelling. He expects Jules to tell him that what he said was stupid, or that he didn’t mean it the way Danny thinks he meant it. He almost wants it like that, because then he’s prepared for it, he knows how to react to it, knows what he’ll say and what he’ll do and he can deal with it.

 

So he’s really, really not ready for it when Jules takes a deep breath and answers in a really calm voice.

 

“I want you because you’re  _ you _ .” He almost whispers, voice shaky. “I want you because when I look at you I’m put in this constant state of awe of how strong and beautiful you are. I want you because you listen to me I want to talk and you talk to me when all I want to do is listen. I want you because when you touch me, it feels like a privilege, like there’s something in me that’s good and whole and deserving, and you don’t touch  _ anybody  _ like you touch me and it feels like you’re reaching out and telling me I’m worthy. I want you because of how you make me  _ feel  _ \- like I’m- like I’m someone that can stand next to you.

 

“You’re so, so strong Danny, and when I’m with you I’m weak. There’s so many -  _ so many things  _ \- that I’ve wanted to do with you, that I’ve wanted to be able to say to you, but I never can. I look at you, and I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes, because I think about how much you’ve gone through, and how if it was me, I wouldn’t be here. And I know that you don’t see yourself like that, I  _ hate  _ that you can’t look in the mirror without thinking something horrible about yourself and it makes me want to throw up whenever I realize that you don’t see yourself the way I do. The way so many other people do.”

 

Jules isn’t crying. He’s pretty damn close, if the way his voice is thick and wavering, but Danny, Danny has tears running down his face to the point that he’s doing a pretty good imitation of Niagara falls right now. 

 

Nobody has ever- how is he even supposed to-  _ fucking  _ hell  _ all this time _ -

 

And Jules wants...him?

 

“You’re quiet but you’re funny, you  _ listen  _ and then you talk, and you never, ever judge, and you help everyone you can every chance you get, and it doesn’t matter if it’s convenient for you or not, you’re there. Your supportive and sincere and such a dork about stuff and you cling to pillows when you sleep and like orange mango smoothies and you can sing so fucking incredibly but only in the shower and I don’t know why you got dealt such shitty ass hand in life that you can’t see why I’d want to be with you, but I promise you, I  _ promise  _ you Danny, there’s nothing else that I want.” 

 

There’s a pause for breath, and Danny looks up, not even realizing that he’d dropped his head in the first place. There’s a single tear going down his cheek, and amidst Danny’s internal war of emotion there’s a tiny little guy on a horse that wants to charge straight after that tear and wipe it away and just hold Jules forever and ever because this hurts to hear, it hurts but it’s incredibly elating at the same time.

 

And if that’s how it feels for him, he’s gotta wonder what this is like for Jules, who avoids emotions like the plague. 

 

Apparently not right now though, because he’s not quite done and Danny can’t stop crying and this is nothing how he imagined today would go but jesus christ he’s so glad it’s happening.

 

“You make me feel warm and happy and light and god Danny, I’m so, so in love with you that it  _ hurts _ .” Jules sobs out, and then it’s just silent, the space between them cold and tense. And Danny- Danny has never been good at anything in his life, except for maybe football, but he knows that  _ this _ -

 

He wants  _ this _ . He wants Jules in his house all the time, wants them to retire together and get a house out in Cali and have two dogs and a backyard and make stupid videos and post stupid shit on instagram and get married and get Tom drunk enough to dance and he just- he  _ wants  _ it.

 

There’s a lot there saying he can’t have it too- a lot that’s telling him that this is just going to lead to more pain and more agony and blood and tears - but he’s so  _ tired _ of being afraid of that. Being afraid of that hasn’t ever gotten him anything good in his life - in fact it’s only gotten him separated from only good thing in his life.

 

It takes it all, every part of him, every combination of mind and body and soul, to take the leap, but he does it anyway, even as he knows that if he messes this up, there won’t be anything left to salvage.

 

“Okay.” Danny says softly. His chest feels like it might explode, and his stomach is just a solid block of ice, but he exhales slowly and walks forward regardless. 

 

It might be one of the scariest things he’s ever done, but he moves until he’s right in front of Jules, and then he steps even closer. Danny brings up a shaking hand to cup his face, and bring his head up to look at him.

 

“Okay.” He whispers.

 

Then he looks Jules in the eye, and kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHAH IT HAPPENEDDDDDDD  
> one more chapter then the epi!!!


	12. To Build A home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...this is it. Last chapter, a short one, and then I'll post the epilogue later tonight. Thanks so much for sticking with this story, and much love to everyone who left kudos and reviews!

 

The thing about it is, the kiss was great. Like, really, really, great. Just for all the wrong reasons.

 

It was sloppy and wet and Julian almost gave himself a concussion because he was so surprised by it he jerked backwards to hard and put a dent in the wall. Danny also sort of missed half his mouth, so in terms of perfect movie magic kissing, where fireworks go off in the background and the mouth melding is perfect and both people are so into it you’re left wondering how they breath - that definitely does _not_ happen. It isn’t even cute afterwards. There’s no quip from Jules or soft innuendo from Danny.

 

After Danny stops laughing (he actually _dented_ the drywall, Danny has to fix that now), Jules just puts a hand on the back of his head and frowns at Dola. He takes a second, just looking at him, and Danny is so stressed he’s _calm_ , when Jules blinks at him and says “Really?” like Danny kissing him wasn’t enough of a confirmation.

 

Danny goes from two steps away from a panic attack to flat amusement, and he doesn’t really know why he was so nervous about it (because Jules just poured emotion to him for a good ten minutes, Danny _knows_ what he’s feeling, he was _listening_ ) but now he’s left with a warm feeling in his stomach and a looseness in his chest that he hasn’t felt for a long, long time. Like the kind of relaxed you get after you didn’t even realize you were tense.

 

“God, you moron.” Danny mutters, stepping away from Edelman to make his way to the kitchen. There’s a pause, and then he swears he can _hear_ the gears in Julian's brain that were slipping suddenly grab, and there’s a sharp “WAIT A SECOND HERE-” that has him smiling as he pulls out an ice pack. He turns around and there’s suddenly a pair of arms pressed to the fridge, caging him in. He looks up with a smile.

 

“You kissed me?” Jules says, and like, Danny knows all about needing time to process things, but this is sort of ridiculous.

 

“Tried to anyway.” Danny says, snorting a bit. He grins then, feeling almost high with excitement. “You didn’t seem to good at it.” He adds cheekily, pressing the cold pack against the side of Jules neck.

 

Laughing feels so easy when Julian yelps, jerks back and frees Danny, who thinks he might just about skip to the living room.

 

He _kissed_ him. He kissed him, he kissed him, he _kissed_. _Him_.

 

Danny flops down on the couch, and leans back, thinking over every word he said, every single word, because holy _shit_ Julian likes him back. Even as he’s doing this, there’s dark thoughts creeping, whispering insecurities, but it’s different than before, because he knows Julian _did_ mean it, knows that he meant _all of it_. Those stupid voices can go fuck themselves, he’s going to sit here, and smile, and feel insanely happy, because he kissed Julian.

 

Julian Fucking Edelman.

 

Okay so maybe he’s a little caught up on this too.

 

There’s a soft thump next to him and then he’s moving too late to avoid Julian launching himself onto the couch, pushing Danny down as he does and settling on top of him. Danny straightens his legs, and Jules would be considered straddling him, if he didn’t lean forward and brace himself on his elbows.

 

Jules smiles down at him, and Danny stares, knowing full well he’s never going to forget this. Not the blue-green of his eyes, not the close shaved stubble on his jaw, not the few locks of hair that have slipped out of the gelled in style and hang low, brushing the skin of his forehead. Not the way his stomach swoops when he flicks his eyes over his best friends features and gets to think that he can have this.

 

Can have _him_.

 

“Are you-” Jules smile slips a bit. “Are you okay with this?”

 

He’d like to be annoyed by this, because he actually made the first step (sort of), but the fuzzy feeling in the back of head that happens (like they’ve done technically nothing, but Jules is still making sure that Danny is okay with it, making sure he knows that he has a choice, he has _control_ ) tells him that he really can’t be.

 

“ _Yes_.” Danny whispers. “God, yes.” It gets the smile back on his face. Danny feels like there’s a fucking stampede of butterflies in his stomach, getting that smile directed at him.

 

“Good.” Jules murmurs, dropping his head closer. “Then you wouldn’t mind redoing that first kiss thing because I was _so_ not with it.”

 

“I’m awar- _mpf_!”

 

....

 

And like...like yeah. Jules is a really, really good kisser.

 

Danny’s got to wonder if this is what it feels like to be high, because when they come up for air, Danny is left wondering if up is really down, because his skin is tingling and his head is spinning and he literally feels ready to run a marathon. Jules is looking at him like Danny is his whole world, and if Danny had any breath left, he’d lose it just looking at the sheer affection coming from the other man.

 

“Still okay?” Jules whispers, and Danny nods, biting his lip. Jules kisses him again, slow and intimate but gentle. “Come up, sit up.” He says after, and leans back, pulling Danny up with him. Jules pulls at his arms, and Danny lets himself be positioned onto Jules lap, sitting sideways between his legs so he can curl into Jules chest. He’s held tight, Julians arms around him to keep him safe.

 

They stay like that for a while, long enough that the mid afternoon light is starting to fade, long enough that Danny has sorted through every single doubt and anxiety he’s got in his head and thinks he might be a tiny bit prepared to talk to Jules about some things, should Jules want to listen. He can tell Jules has been thinking too, but it’s so perfect, being there in his arms, that it makes Danny’s heart swell and he feels light with happiness.

 

“So.” Jules says eventually, stilted and awkward and nervous, and it makes Danny smiles a little, because it reminds him that this isn’t easy for Jules either, and that he’s not alone.

 

“So.” Danny parrots, and Jules huffs, but relaxes a little.

 

“So um...I guess you might’ve got this from my rant but, if - if we do this, I- I can’t have it- I’ll be all in. I don't - like casually, with you, I don’t think I could do it. So if you want to, then...”

 

“Me neither.” Danny whispers, and curls into Julian a little more. “You really want to do this? With me?”

 

Jules presses a kiss to his hair, and says yes.

 

“I’ve wanted to do this...jesus I’ve been half in love with you since training camp. Took me a little while to...uh, get with the program, and such.” Jules coughs a little, like he’s clearing his throat, and once again Danny finds himself grinning.

 

“Tom wouldn’t have happened to have helped you with that, would he?”

 

“Shut up.” Jules grumbles. “You’re not the easiest to read.” Danny tenses and Jules curses.

 

 _You have to talk about this_. He reminds himself sternly.

 

“I know - and I know I’m not...the easiest to live with, or be friends with, or be with in general, but you gotta know Jules I- I don’t know how to fight this sometimes and there’s still a lot I haven’t told you but...I am trying. It’s going to be hard and-” He swallows.”-and my dad, I- I can’t protect you if you’re with me Jules, I mean that, I can’t even- I couldn’t even fight back against him and it’s stupid because I _should_ but I _can’t_ but then he said something about you and I did and now I’m just- I’m just so scared that if you’re with me, you’re going to get hurt.” Danny finishes rambling, the words bleeding from his mouth like a cut on the lip. Each one stung as it was pulled from him, but now that it’s out there, it’s like he can breath. Like now Jules _knows_ why Danny tried to pull away, and he can make his choice (but maybe, he’s already made it, coming back like he did).

 

Jules is quiet for a moment, and then starts with the beginning.

 

“First of all, I’ve lived with you for a year, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love being with you Danny, and I love every part of you, and it inspires me to do better every day that I talk to you because I can _see_ how hard you try, and I know how hard it must be, and everyday you do it again and again and it’s _incredible_. So yes, I know this could and will get hard, and I don’t care, I want to be here through all of it, so you can put all of _that_ out of your head.” Edelman pauses, takes a breath that matches the sigh Danny makes, and then:

 

“Second - are you saying - you _hit_ your dad?”

 

“Uh.” Danny shrugs. “Yes? He just- he said some shit about you and I got so mad and I punched him and I still kinda can’t figure out how or why and I don’t really know how I feel about it but I’ve never been able to fight back before, so I guess you gave me that.” Jules stiffens.

 

“When I came around that corner…” He starts, and its soft but dangerous, and Danny knows if he looked in Jules eyes right now they’d be lost in the memory of it. “I didn’t know what to do. You were on the ground and he was over you and you weren’t moving and I- I thought-” Jules voice cuts off, and when it comes back, it sounds watery. His chest hitches a little, breathes shaky, and Danny curls in closer to him. He never thought about what it was like for Jules to see him like that, but then maybe that’s because he never wanted to think about what happened.

 

“I thought you were dead, and not just because he was- I just remember...thinking that...that what I was seeing was wrong somehow, that I was hallucinating, because that was - that was _you_ , that was Danny, and Danny always fights back. And since you weren’t fighting, then you were - and then I just saw red and then Tom was there and I don’t even remember half of it if I’m being honest but I was just so scared Danny, I thought I was losing you.”

 

Danny shifts around, leaning back to look up at Jules. He settles his face against Julians neck, and stretches his legs out a bit. Jules just leans back into the couch. They go back to breathing in the silence.

 

“I was scared too.” Danny whispers eventually.

 

“We’re gonna be okay.” Jules says, soft and close. Danny just closes his eyes, and in the dim light of evening, they exist as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sniffles* what am i gonna do i have nothing to post now my life is over.


	13. Future Looks Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue!

Things do not instantly get better. But that’s okay as long as Danny doesn’t give up. 

 

They work together, they live together, they sleep together and they  _ sleep _ together. They win together and they lose together, and Danny learns to stay when all he wants to do is run. It’s work - Danny has to open up to Jules, has to get used to the idea that he can have him, and that he can handle everything that comes with him.

 

Jules has to figure out how to deal with his anger, how to listen to Danny, and it takes a while but eventually he even learns when to push Danny and when to  _ not _ . They fight, over nothing, and over everything, but the times that they  _ actually _ argue are few and far between, and it always leads to a better understanding of each other.

 

It’s work, especially on the days when everyone’s frustrated and they’re tired and they lose and Danny had low spoons to begin with and Jules is looking for a fight. It sucks sometimes, and sometimes Jules even leaves for the night, just to go do...whatever the heck Jules does. 

 

But he always comes home the next morning, and he’s never hungover (Danny is ninety nine percent sure that he just drives around then ends up at Toms place, because neither of them are that sneaky) and he’s always much more ready to talk.

 

Talking is hard, for both of them, because Jules would always rather  _ do _ something than talk about doing something, and Danny would rather keep him mouth shut constantly, so it takes a lot of effort and patience and some days they have it and some days they don’t.

 

But they work together, him and Jules, and that’s all Danny wants.

 

....

 

Two years after Danny is traded from the Rams, The Patriots win the superbowl.

 

It’s the (second) happiest moment of his life. It’s a giant blur of excitement and joy and adrenaline and he feels euphoric, running across the field with his helmet off and screaming. He finds everyone, and they’re all screaming too, and then, when he’s breathing again, there’s Jules, hugging him, pushing him over, yelling with joy. 

 

“We did it.” Jules tells him later, when it’s later and they’re exhausted in the hotel room. “ _ We _ did it.”

 

“Yeah.” Danny breathes, and kisses him. “We did.”

 

....

 

Danny tells Jules about what happened while he was with the Rams two days before they play them. He tells him because it hits him like a ton of bricks, just what they did to him, what it felt like, what it was and what it wasn’t. He tells him from behind the closed bathroom door of their hotel room, where he’d been for the last few hours having a panic attack. 

 

He tells him through sobbing breaths and ugly sounding inhales, and he doesn’t  _ want to _ , because he knows Jules will be angry, and he knows an angry Julian playing football is a recipe for disaster. 

 

He opens the door to tumble into Jules arms, and he begs Jules to stay with him, not to tell anyone, not to  _ do anything _ .

 

They play against the Rams on a friday night and beat them by four touchdowns. There’s two penalties, one against the patriots, and its from the defense. 

 

Julian holds him tight on the plane ride home and Danny believes him when he tells him he’s okay.

 

…

 

Technically, they get married in October. There’s no one there except for Jules old time friend Tyler Seguin who was up for a game with the Stars, and he’s only there because someone has to witness it.

 

Once they find the right office in the Boston City Hall, they fill out all the paperwork and sign the dotted lines and Segs snaps a picture on his phone and it’s official.

 

They  _ really _ get married in May after they win the superbowl again, and it’s him and Jules and Tom and Rob and somehow Gisele ends up with Danny in the back while Brady and Gronk and Cookie are with Jules (who’s apparently having a major freak out while Danny is so calm it’s even surprising himself).

 

The whole team is there, and Jules friends and family, and ironically, Danny is more nervous that his parent’s  _ might  _ show up. 

 

He thinks he could probably die when he walks up the aisle with Gisele to see Jules looking fucking  _ pristine _ at the end.

 

They get married (again) and then they eat and then Tom and Rob give the worst speeches mostly because Tom’s makes him sob and Robs makes him laugh so hard he can’t breath. Everyone drinks and it’s somehow even  _ better _ than the super bowl ring party and the whole team is drunk and happy and dancing and it’s perfect.

 

Danny is happy. And it’s all he’s wanted.

 

...

 

It’s not the honeymoon, but it’s the same place, years after, when they’re both retired complain and about being old and worn out. They’re at the beach, sitting on a fluffy towel, Danny curled into Jules side, watching the sun go down.

 

“Do you love me?” Danny whispers, his thumb rubbing the ring on his right hand.

 

“Since the day we met.” Jules responds without a second's hesitation.

 

And Danny smiles.

 

Danny grew up with a father who hated him, and a mother who was a ghost. But it was all okay, because he found someone to keep his head up, someone to love him for everything he is, and he loves him back.(And if a few unrelated knuckleheads became his brothers too, then he thinks he can deal with it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this guys!!! sorry for any typos ive missed, and I really, really appreciate everyone leaving kudos and comments and sticking with this story. You guys are the best!

**Author's Note:**

> Incredible thanks to my friend allie, who helped me make this as accurate as I could, and for who inspires me with her courage and resilience everyday. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you guys like it! I should be updating every week or so.


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